Half Lives
by scarlet79
Summary: As the team deals with a minor crisis, strange nightmares suddenly begin to plague the Atlantis crew, including Sheppard and his team. Rated T for now, just to be safe...oh, and may also have some SHEYLA! Tee Hee...
1. Sheppard, the Nanny

DISCLAIMER: Sadly, it is MGM, etc, and NOT I, who owns any of the characters in this story. I just like to borrow them sometimes, and then gently put them back before anyone notices they're gone. (It's more fun that way.) If you decide to play along, please don't break them, or I'll be in deep trouble!!

* * *

HALF-LIVES

CHAPTER 1

"Will you hold Torren for me, John?"

John Sheppard looked up from the magazine he had been casually flipping through, and smiled nervously at Teyla. "I'm not very good with babies…" he reminded her.

Teyla grinned back. "You will be fine. It is only for a moment."

Sheppard sighed, and tossed the magazine onto a nearby chair. "Ok, I'll give it a shot."

Teyla stepped over to him and carefully placed her neatly-swaddled son in his arms, then stood back to watch both of them for a moment. Sheppard looked down at Torren, who was sleeping quietly, his tiny fists curled up under his chin, then glanced at Teyla.

"He looks like you."

"So I have been told," she replied, as she went back to folding some clothes on her bed.

"You did a good job, Mom."

She sighed then, and laid a pair of slacks, neatly folded into a rectangle, in an open drawer. When she didn't turn around right away, Sheppard was immediately curious, not to mention a little nervous.

"Teyla?"

She just shook her head, still turned with her back to him, her hands placed on top of the dresser. Sheppard slowly stood up, making sure not to wake Torren, and walked over to her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, nudging her with an elbow, and she looked sideways at him, her eyes shining with tears.

"Oh boy," he muttered. He'd definitely done something very wrong. He turned toward Torren's cradle and carefully laid the little bundle down, wincing as he tried to slide his arms out from under the baby without waking him. Thankfully, Torren only shifted, but didn't wake, and Sheppard strode back over to where Teyla stood.

"Hey," he said quietly, taking both her shoulders in his hands and staring down into her chocolate eyes. She stared back at him for a moment, but her chin soon began to quiver, and she buried her head against his chest, crying nearly silently. Sheppard wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek on top of her head, and closed his eyes, content to simply hold her for as long as she needed him to.

After a while, she finally pulled away and wiped her eyes, managing a small apologetic smile. "I am sorry, John. I do not know what came over me."

"Well, I'm sure all the stress of being kidnapped, on top of giving birth, can mess with even the strongest of us," he said, slightly cocking his head to one side in his usual way. "Not to mention, that you gave birth _while_ you were in the middle of being rescued. And with Kanaan being gone…"

He then realized that he probably wasn't helping much at all, and ran a hand through his brown hair. "You know what? I should probably just shut up now."

"No," Teyla said quickly. "No, you are right. The past few weeks have been very stressful. I just…" she breathed out a sigh. "I thought I was ready for this. For having a child. But I am so tired all the time, and my muscles are so sore, even though I kept in good shape during my pregnancy."

John smiled. "But now you realize you have muscles you never knew you had."

She nodded. "Yes."

"Well, I'm not busy for the next few hours. Why don't you get some sleep, and I'll take Torren with me? Just give me a bottle and some diapers, maybe one of those little cloths you carry around with you, and I…we…will be fine."

Teyla stared at him, surprised. "Are you sure?" She asked slowly, wondering if he were serious.

"Sure. If it gets too hairy, I can always find Sam to help me." He was already rummaging in the diaper bag Sam Carter had given her for a shower gift, making sure everything was inside. Teyla almost wanted to cry again. John Sheppard was always such a kind, considerate friend to her.

"All right," she agreed. "I'll just get you a bottle for him."

She walked over to a small cabinet and opened the door, to reveal a refrigerator just large enough to hold a day's worth of food, and grabbed a bottle near the front. She shut the door, walked to where Sheppard stood, and held the bottle out to him. He took it from her and slid it in his chest pocket, then waited for her to lift Torren from the cradle and place him in his arms.

"He'll probably be hungry as soon as he wakes. You will have to change him after he's fed, also, and make sure to burp him…"

"Teyla," Sheppard interrupted, and she fell silent. "We'll be _fine_. I'll figure it out. You go take a nap, okay?"

"Of course. And thank you, John."

"It's no problem." He leaned down and planted a small kiss on her cheek. "Good night."

Then, with a nod at her, he opened the door and walked out. Teyla sighed, put away the rest of the clothes, and then lay down in her warm bed. She was asleep as soon as her eyes closed.

* * *

"I always knew you were a cradle-robber, Sheppard."

Sheppard smirked at Rodney McKay from across the table in the mess hall, then retorted, "And I always knew you were a horrible comedian."

McKay grinned sarcastically before taking a bite of his lunch. "So," he said around a mouthful of lettuce, "How'd you get stuck babysitting?"

"I didn't. I volunteered."

Rodney put down his fork and stared at his friend. "You _what_?!"

"Teyla's exhausted. So, I told her to get some rest while I took care of Torren."

"Well, okay, but are you sure you're qualified for that sort of thing? I mean, this is a tiny person we're talking about."

"You worry too much, McKay," a deep voice rumbled from beside the table. Both men looked up to see Ronon Dex standing there, a tray of food in his hand. He took an empty seat, and opened the bottle of water he'd pulled from his pocket. "Babysitting? You're not really going to sit on him, are you?"

Sheppard shook his head. "Well, I can't promise I won't do it on accident." When he saw the horrified look on Ronon's face, he laughed. "I'm kidding. 'Babysitting' just means 'taking care of someone else's kid for a while'."

Ronon frowned. "You and your Earth terms."

"Hey," Sheppard said, "you happen to enjoy a lot of my 'Earth terms'. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't know what 'beer' was."

Ronon grinned and took a swig of his water. "That is true."

"So, how long do you have to 'babysit'?" Rodney asked.

"Ah, I dunno. A few hours, I guess."

Just then, Torren began to squirm in the crook of his right arm. His tiny arms pulled free of the swaddling, and started to wave around as he squalled softly. Soon, however, his cries grew louder, and Sheppard's eyes widened as he realized just how loud such a small person could be.

"Um…" Rodney said as he looked around and saw how many people had turned to see what the noise was about.

"Calm down, Rodney. I've got it." Sheppard pulled out the bottle Teyla had given him, popped the cap off, and held it to Torren's lips. The baby eagerly took the bottle and stopped crying, his mouth now too busy sucking down the milk in the bottle.

When he saw that Torren was again happy, Sheppard gave a triumphant smile to his friends. "See. Told you I've got it."

"Yeah. Great," Rodney grouched. "Just wait a few minutes, when you've got to change him. We'll see what you say then."

"You know, Rodney," Sheppard began as he shifted Torren's weight to a more comfortable place in his arm, "sometimes your pessimism still shocks me."

"I'm not pessimistic. I'm realistic. Big difference."

"Uh-huh."

Rodney sighed, and pushed back his chair. "Whatever. Anyway, have fun babysitting. I'll be in the control room with Zelenka."

When he was gone, Ronon pushed his tray away from him and sat back to watch Sheppard, crossing his huge arms over his chest.

Sheppard noticed him staring, and asked, "What?"

Ronon grinned. "Nothing. I was just wondering if you've ever done this before."

Sheppard shook his head. "Nah. No one I know has ever had kids."

"Well, for someone with no experience, you seem to be doing okay."

Sheppard just shrugged. When he glanced down, he realized the bottle was empty, so he gently pulled it out of Torren's mouth and set it on the table. Torren began to squirm and cry again, his face turning red. Sheppard remembered Teyla telling him about burping the baby, so he pulled a small cloth from the diaper bag, slung it over his shoulder, and then placed Torren there. He awkwardly patted the baby's back a few times, but it didn't seem to be working.

Ronon watched all this in amusement, until he saw Sheppard's look of helplessness. With a sigh, he stood up and came around the table, holding out his arms for the baby. Sheppard handed Torren to him, and then placed the cloth over Ronon's shoulder. Ronon carefully but firmly patted the little boy's back, and after a few moments, a loud burp erupted from him. His cries stopped immediately.

Sheppard pouted. "I could've done that."

"It's okay," Ronon assured him. "I've had a little practice, that's all. You want him back, now?"

"Yeah."

Ronon gave both the cloth, and Torren back to him. "I'm gonna go downstairs, see what I can do in the gym. If you need help again…"

"I'll be fine," Sheppard interjected, his ego still a little bruised that he'd needed help, much less help from another man. If it had been Carter, he could've dealt with it, but Ronon? His huge friend would never let him live it down.

"Have fun, then."

As the doors closed after Ronon, Sheppard looked down at Torren, who was trying to put his fist in his mouth.

"Looks like it's just you and me, buddy. What now?"

A sound from inside the blanket reached his ears, just before a horrid stench invaded his nostrils, and he could've sworn that Torren grinned up at him.

"Oh!" Sheppard exclaimed. "Nasty!"

He looked around for some place to lay the baby down, but realized that he was still in the mess hall. He grabbed the diaper bag and started to leave, then had to turn around to grab the bottle he'd left on the table. Now sure he had everything, he walked quickly through the mess hall doors, and made his way down to his own room.

He set Torren down on the bed, plunked the diaper bag on the nightstand, and pulled a diaper from inside the bag. He looked for some kind of wipes or something to clean Torren with, but he couldn't see anything among the million items packed into the bag.

"Geez," he muttered, and decided to simply dump the contents of the bag onto the bed. Finally, he found a slim, white box, and when he opened it, saw that it contained a handful of wipes. He also grabbed a small bottle that was labeled "baby powder", and turned toward Torren, who was happily gumming a tube of rash cream he'd snatched from nearby.

"Oh, crap!" Sheppard exclaimed, retrieving the cream and checking to see if any had gotten in Torren's mouth. Luckily, there hadn't, and he swept everything within Torren's reach back into the bag. He pulled off Torren's little green pants, and opened the tape on the diaper as if he were defusing a bomb. With a grimace, he checked inside it, and then quickly closed it again. The tape wouldn't stick, however, so he held it closed with one hand, and tapped the comm. device in his ear with the other.

"Um, Colonel Carter?"

Carter's voice came over the comm. "Yes, Sheppard?"

"You very busy at the moment?"

"Not really," she said with a small chuckle. Rodney had already told her about Sheppard's "baby duty", as he'd called it. "What's up?"

"I need you to come to my room. I've got a…situation…here."

"I'll be right there."

"Hurry, if you can."

Carter chuckled again as she switched off her earpiece and left her office.

* * *

When she arrived in Sheppard's quarters, Colonel Carter took in the scene before her. Sheppard was still holding the diaper closed with one hand, though now with much difficulty since Torren was squirming around. His T-shirt was pulled up around his face in a kind of improvised gas mask.

"I've never seen…it's so gross," he offered helplessly through his shirt, and Carter nudged him aside.

As she quickly changed the baby, she asked, "How is it you men can see blood and guts everywhere, and you have no problem, but as soon as you need to change a diaper, you nearly pass out?"

"'Cause blood doesn't smell like that!"

Carter laughed out loud. "You big baby. Here you go, all nice and clean again." She held Torren out to him, and he took him and settled him into the crook of his arm, while pulling his shirt off of his face.

"Thank you," he replied with a loud sigh, relieved to finally be breathing fresh air again.

"You're welcome, but I'm not doing it for you again."

"But…"

Carter shook her head vigorously. "No, John. If you want to learn, you have to do it for yourself. Otherwise, you can take Torren back to Teyla right now."

"No. No, I'll do it. She needs her rest."

Carter smiled at him. "You're a good friend for doing this, John."

"Well, I always kind of wanted a kid or two, myself. I'd like to think that I'd be a helpful dad, if not a very good one."

"Oh, I don't know about that. You're strong, but with a small helping of gentleness; something severely lacking in most men. I find that quality endearing."

Sheppard cocked his head and grinned. "Really?"

"Aaand there's that massive ego," she laughed, patting his shoulder. "I've got to get back to the control room. If you need anything, don't call me."

"Thanks, Colonel."

"You're welcome."

When she left, Sheppard sat down on the edge of the bed, clueless as to what to do now. Torren had fallen asleep again, a small smile on his pink lips. A muscle car magazine lay open on his nightstand, but to be honest, he didn't really want to move and possibly wake the baby, so he simply sat there, glancing around at the walls in his quarters. He gazed for a while at his Johnny Cash poster, as he'd done millions of times already, and then decided to slowly shift so he could relax on the whole bed, rather than the edge.

When he was comfortably reclining against his pillows, Sheppard closed his eyes, thinking back to the past few weeks' events. Teyla's capture by Michael had truly scared him; he had a duty to protect not only a member of his team, but also her unborn child, and Sheppard had failed on both counts.

He hadn't intended on falling asleep, but he soon found that he was more worn out than he'd thought. Torren's cries made him jerk awake a while later, and he was instantly afraid that he'd either dropped him or rolled on top of him. A breath of relief washed through him when he saw that the baby was still snuggled into his arm, and he stood up to try and calm his cries.

"Smooth move, John," he scolded himself under his breath. Then, to the baby, he asked, "What's wrong, buddy? You can't be hungry again."

Torren's cries grew louder, seemingly in response to his question. _Good thing these rooms are nearly soundproof_, he thought as he placed Torren over his shoulder and rubbed his back. After trying a dozen other things to calm him, and failing each time, Sheppard's gaze rested on the guitar standing in the corner, and he nodded approvingly.

"Might as well give it a shot."

He laid Torren down on the bed, and grabbed the guitar by the neck. He slid the strap over his head and one shoulder, strummed it quickly to make sure it was still in tune, and then sat again on the edge of the bed, facing the baby.

"This is for you, Torren _John_," he said, smiling as he emphasized the 'John'. It was no secret that Teyla had honored Sheppard by naming her son after him, and he would never let anyone forget it.

After a moment's thought, he began to softly play his favorite Johnny Cash song. He hadn't realized he'd been singing along, until Torren's cries had died down to a few whimpers and whines. Even though he knew he was alone, he suddenly felt very self-conscious.

Sheppard stopped playing, and stared down at the baby. "I figured you'd like that."

"You have a wonderful voice, John," a voice suddenly said behind him, and though it startled him, he was careful not to show it. Instead, he slowly turned around, to see Teyla standing there, her eyes bright with tears.

"Oh, hi," he replied, standing up and setting his guitar back against the wall. "You sleep well?"

Teyla smiled warmly. She knew he was deliberately ignoring her compliment, but she let it go. Instead, she said, "Yes, thank you. I feel as if I've slept for a year."

"Good. Well, as you can see, Torren is just as you left him. Except now he's fed and burped and changed. But…" he trailed off, knowing that once again, he was rambling.

"I see. Thank you again, so much. I feel much better now."

Sheppard simply nodded, content that at least she had gotten some much-needed rest.

Teyla stepped forward, and placed her hands on his shoulders. He did the same, and bowed his head to meet hers, the Athosian version of a hug.

When Teyla moved away, he asked her, "So, when does Kanaan come back?"

She frowned. "A week, at most."

"Seems like whatever negotiations he's involved with are taking a pretty long time."

"Yes. I fear that perhaps things are not going very well. I do not have a good feeling about it."

"Hmm," Sheppard said, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. "If you want, I could take a team, see what's up."

She shook her head. "Thank you, but I'm sure things will be fine. My…"

"Hormones?" He offered, and she smiled again.

"Yes. My hormones…are making me paranoid."

"Teyla," he warned softly, pushing off the wall and taking her arm. "I've known you for five years. Your instincts aren't wrong all that often."

"Still…" she began, but he stopped her by gently tightening his grip on her arm.

"Will ya' just let me help you? If nothing's wrong, then hey, chalk it up to nervous energy." He moved his head closer to gaze into her eyes. "But wouldn't you rather be wrong, and know that you were wrong, than be right, and _not_ know about it?"

Teyla stared at him for a while, then slowly nodded. "All right."

"Okay." He released her arm, and instead pulled her into a hug. "You have enough to worry about up here. Just let me handle it."

"I don't know what I would do without you, John," Teyla said into his chest, and he chuckled.

"Well, for one, you'd have to spar with Ronon all the time."

She laughed. "True. Very true."

Torren began to squall again, and Teyla grimaced. "I'd better go feed him again. Please, be careful."

Sheppard nodded once. "Will do, ma'am."

She picked up the diaper bag, then lifted the baby from Sheppard's bed, and walked out, with Sheppard close behind. They parted in the hallway, however, as she went to her quarters while Sheppard walked toward the Gate room.

* * *

In the Gate room, Rodney and Zelenka were squabbling over some scientific issue, while Carter wisely stayed silent, with only a quick roll of her eyes every now and then. Finally, Zelenka stormed off, uttering a string of Czech curses under his breath.

When she noticed Sheppard come in, Sam Carter nodded once to him, a grin on her fair face.

"Colonel Carter, can I speak to you?" he asked, and the seriousness of his voice wiped away her smile. _He was never this solemn, not even on his worst day._

She started up the steps to her office. "Of course."

Sheppard never tired of looking around Carter's office. It was sparsely decorated, of course, like most of Atlantis, but the things she did display captured his imagination, until he had to make himself look away from them to retrieve his train of thought.

"What did you need?" She asked him, effortlessly sliding into her chair behind the desk. Though she gestured for him to sit, he only gave a slight shake of his head and remained standing, his hands clasped lightly behind his back.

"I'd like to take a team to check in with Kanaan. Seems things are going much slower than expected."

Carter frowned. "Well, that sometimes happens when dealing with new allies."

"I know. But…" he sighed quietly and looked up at the ceiling, wondering if this idea held any merit, after all. "I'm worried that something may be up. That there's some trouble."

A knowing look crossed Sam's face. "You're worried, or Teyla's worried?"

Aware that she had caught on to him, Sheppard sat down in the chair across from her, crossing his ankles and leaning back a little. "Okay, look. Teyla is worried. And since I've known her, whatever bad feeling she's had about something has usually been right. So, if she's worried, then yeah, I'm worried."

Sam sat back in her chair and folded her hands on top of the desk. She took a moment to think about what Sheppard had said, and to weigh the options she had before her. One; she could let him go, and have things go terribly wrong. Two; he could go and stop whatever was about to happen – bad or good. Three; she could say no to him, and something bad may happen to Kanaan and his group. Four; she could say no, and Kanaan could come back safe, with a new alliance made.

In that moment, none of those choices had emerged a clear winner. Sam closed her eyes, then opened them again. Sheppard was still sitting across from her, waiting.

"John, if you go barging in there, whatever alliance Kanaan is trying to make could go south."

"Who said I would be 'barging'? Just a small team, maybe me, Ronon and Lorne. We go in quiet, find Kanaan, get a report and get out. Unless it's already gone south; and then I'll send Lorne back for help."

_If there's one thing Sheppard's good at,_ Carter thought to herself, _it's selling an idea_.

Though her expression didn't change, she replied, "All right. Like you said, go in quiet. Report back every fifteen minutes."

Sheppard seemed surprised by her response. "Okay. Thank you, Colonel."

"Sam." She had a feeling that she'd never stop reminding him to call her by her first name.

"Thank you, Sam."

She nodded, and he slid out of his chair and walked out of the room, all in one seemingly fluid motion. She watched him leave, and then leaned her head back against the chair headrest. She prayed that she was making the right choice.

* * *

_Notes: So, fun times, huh? Who knew Sheppard (I think it sounds cooler than just "John") would be such a great babysitter? Sheppard: *Raises hand* "I did!" Me: Shush, you! _

_Anyway, I wrote this story from a dream I had, after watching God-knows-how-many Atlantis episodes...and made a music video...and...watched a few more. Thanks go to my hubby, who is OK with me having a "crush" on our fav flyboy. Have fun, r&r and all that...but be warned, there is much drama interspersed with the funny...HUGZ!_

_PS. Sorry about the long chapters, but I just couldn't figure out a better way to split up the scenes, other than taking each chapter as I wrote them in Word (I tend to write novels, more than short stories), and putting them up here. Sheppard: "Y'know...if you think about it, you could always...I dunno...favorite it to read at your leisure. I do that with War & Peace. Put a bookmark in it..." Me: Will you just stop! And go fix that hair of yours! ANYway, enjoy!_


	2. Prisoners

HALF-LIVES

CHAPTER 2

John Sheppard stepped through the Stargate, followed closely by Ronon and Major Lorne. It was night on the planet, and once the Stargate shut down, there was absolutely no light for the team to see by. Sheppard switched on the light at the end of his gun, and immediately heard the other two men do the same. Three small pools of light shone onto the grass at their feet, moving apart from each other as the men moved off toward the village, in search of Kanaan and his men.

"Okay," Sheppard whispered, "remember, we're only here to observe. Try and stay outta sight."

"Got it," Ronon rumbled from somewhere near his left side.

They slowly crept through the field, keeping their lights pointed toward the ground, until they could just barely see the outlines of a few dozen tents, lit by a small fire within their circle. Thirty yards outside of the circle, another larger tent stood, and Sheppard guessed that this was where the inhabitants of the village housed their visitors. He made a quick motion with his hand, to which both Lorne and Ronon nodded in understanding, and then walked quietly toward the tent. Muffled voices reached his ears from within the tent, and he caught what he thought was Kanaan speaking in a low murmur. Sheppard nodded to his team, then switched off his light and slipped inside the tent, leaving the other two men to keep watch.

Though the inside of the tent was as dark as it was outside, Sheppard saw Kanaan's outline near the middle of the room. A hint of sliver flashed in the firelight, and Sheppard put up his hand in defense.

"Wait, Kanaan. It's me, Sheppard."

There was a brief pause, and then Kanaan lowered his hand. "Sheppard?"

"Yeah."

"What are you doing here? Is something wrong with Teyla? Is…"

Sheppard shook his head. "No, she's fine, and so is Torren. In fact, Teyla was worried that something was wrong with you. Everything okay?"

Kanaan sighed. "For now. But I fear that these people do not trust us at all, and will not ally themselves with us against the Wraith. As it is, they do not have any technology or means of fighting the Wraith, should they come to this planet. The people would be wiped out completely."

"So, what's taking so long, then? If they aren't of any use…" Sheppard's question was cut off by the sound of Ronon's voice over Sheppard's comm.

"We're about to have company, Sheppard. What should we do?"

"Please, Sheppard," Kanaan urged. "You must go back to Atlantis. I and my men will return soon."

"Just…wait a minute," he replied, then to Ronon, he said, "Fall back toward the Gate, and try to stay outta sight. I'll be right behind you."

"Okay," Ronon replied, and he and Lorne quietly slunk into the darkness behind the tents.

Sheppard cocked his head and stared at Kanaan. _At the father of Teyla's child_, he thought somewhat bitterly. If he was honest with himself, which wasn't often, he was still a little angry that she had concealed her pregnancy from him in the beginning. "What is really going on here, Kanaan? You sound as if you're afraid of these people."

"They may not have weapons that can kill a Wraith," Kanaan explained, "but they have some that will kill humans. We were just now trying to plan our escape from this planet."

Sheppard saw then that Kanaan and his men were all bound together by both their ankles and arms, with metal cuffs that were all linked by two long chains. It wasn't a weapon that he'd seen glinting in the dim light, it was their handcuffs.

"Great," Sheppard muttered under his breath. He tapped the comm. at his ear. "Ronon, Lorne, we've got a problem."

"Uh-huh." It was Ronon's way of saying, 'Go ahead.'

"Kanaan and his men aren't negotiating with the village. They're its prisoners."

Lorne's voice came over then. "So what's the plan?"

"Well, obviously we've gotta get them out."

There was a too-long pause, before Ronon said, "So, what's the plan?"

"I'll let you know when I have one. Stay down for now."

He switched off the comm., and turned back to Kanaan. "I don't suppose anyone has a key?"

Kanaan, not understanding John's dark sense of humor, shrugged and replied, "No."

"Well, we'll have to improvise, then." He laid his gun on the ground, and took out his military-issue knife, pulling Kanaan's wrists closer to inspect the lock. Realizing that wouldn't work, he sighed and slipped the knife back into the loop on his vest, then peeked out the tent-flap. Village men milled around near the fire, talking and laughing quietly. In their hands were black, shiny guns that looked eerily similar to the ones he and his team carried.

"Crap." He tapped the comm. again. "Gotta plan, guys. We need a distraction. Preferably as far away from the Gate as possible."

Ronon looked at Lorne. "C4?"

Lorne shrugged. "A few."

Ronon sighed. _Why did every mission have to go like this?_ Then, he spoke to Sheppard. "We're on it."

"Copy."

Sheppard picked up his gun, and glanced at Kanaan. "As soon as you hear the blast, run like hell toward the Gate, okay?"

The tall man nodded. "I understand."

"Good."

About five minutes later, Ronon's voice startled Sheppard. "We're ready."

Sheppard nodded, then felt silly for it, since Ronon couldn't see him. With a frown at himself, he replied, "Go."

A loud explosion boomed through the village, followed by a bright flash of light. The men around the campfire instantly began shouting and ran toward the blast, their guns up and at the ready. Sheppard waited until they were out of firing range, and then pushed Kanaan out the tent's door. Kanaan and his men ran as quickly as the chains allowed, and Sheppard ran behind them, helping up anyone who stumbled along the way.

Lorne had dialed the Gate in the meantime, and he and Ronon stood guard on either side, their guns pointed into the darkness. The captives were almost to the Gate, when a shot suddenly rang out, and Kanaan fell forward.

Sheppard saw him fall, and spun around, firing a volley of bullets toward the village. He saw two man-shaped outlines drop to the ground, just before he ran ahead toward Kanaan. Ronon and Lorne unleashed their guns in the fight, while Sheppard dropped to the ground beside Kanaan.

"Kanaan!" he shouted over the gunfire, checking the man's injury. He could see a bullet-wound in the taller man's back, and the dark pool of blood under him suggested that the shot had gone completely through his torso. The wound was still bleeding badly; if they didn't get back to Atlantis soon, they might not be able to save him.

Kanaan groaned, but was able to pull himself up onto his hands and knees. Sheppard helped him stand up, and let him lean against him as they continued on toward the Gate.

"Ronon, Lorne, let's go!" he shouted to them, and they followed after him, still firing at the villagers.

* * *

"Colonel Carter, we've got an incoming wormhole."

Carter emerged from her office, just as the Gate activated downstairs. "IDC?"

The gate technician, Chuck, nodded. "It's Colonel Sheppard."

"Let them in," she replied, trying desperately to ignore the feeling of dread she felt in her gut. She watched as the shield covering the Gate dissipated, and not more than two seconds later, Sheppard appeared, with Kanaan leaning heavily against his shoulder. Five Athosian men followed them, and Lorne and Ronon brought up the rear.

Carter hurried down the steps to the main floor of the Gate room, calling for Dr. Keller as she went.

"What happened?" She asked Sheppard, whose jacket, face, and arms were streaked with Kanaan's blood.

"He was shot in the back. They were being held prisoner. Can we get these chains off?" He asked, looking around for someone to help.

A crew member rushed out of the room, only to return a few moments later with a pair of bolt cutters. They succeeded in removing the cuffs, just as Dr. Keller ran in with a gurney.

"Can you get up here by yourself?" she asked Kanaan, patting the stretcher. He tried, but the pain was too much, and his knees gave out beneath him. Sheppard managed to catch him before he hit the floor, but he glanced at Ronon for help. Ronon easily took the man from him and laid him on the gurney, then stepped back as Keller began to wheel Kanaan toward the infirmary.

A group of officers came in to take care of Kanaan's men, and Carter beckoned for Sheppard, Lorne and Ronon to follow her upstairs. When they were standing in her office, she again stared at Sheppard's blood-covered self, and said, "Just fill me in, and then you can go wash up."

Sheppard took a breath, then began. "We went in quiet, as agreed. We found Kanaan, and I went inside while those two –" he jerked his head in Ronon and Lorne's direction " – kept watch. Kanaan told me that there was virtually no chance of an alliance, and then said that the villagers were in fact holding them prisoner. A bunch of the village men were standing around a fire, too close for me to make a clean rescue, so Ronon and Lorne set off a bunch of C4 as a distraction."

He sighed, sounding defeated. "I thought it would keep them occupied until we got through the Gate, but someone must've tipped them off to our escape. Kanaan was shot in the back, but I managed to get him and the others through. That's about it."

The other two men nodded in agreement.

Carter sat on the edge of her desk, her arms crossed over her chest. "I suppose it was a good thing you went, then. Who knows what they would've done to Kanaan and his men if you hadn't."

"Yep."

"Okay," she said with a sigh. "You're dismissed. Go clean up and get some rest."

"Thanks," Sheppard replied. "But I'm gonna go find Teyla and fill her in, first. Don't want her freaking out if she sees him in the infirmary. Or…" although he didn't continue, Sam knew what he was thinking. _Or if he didn't make it after all_, she finished for him.

Carter simply nodded, and the three men left her office.

* * *

Sheppard stood in front of his bathroom sink, staring into the mirror. He knew he was supposed to be washing the blood off his face and arms, but instead, all he could think about was how he was going to tell Teyla that Kanaan was badly injured, and might possibly die. She had almost lost him once already; this might be too much even for her. And now that Torren – the outcome of her relationship with Kanaan – was here, well, it could only be harder.

With a heavy sigh, Sheppard turned on the sink and began to wash his arms, trying not to notice the reddish water that flowed down the drain, then grabbed a washcloth and scrubbed his face clean. He inspected himself again, making sure he hadn't missed anything, and then shut off the water. As he left the bathroom, he swiped the towel off the back of the door and dried himself with it, then tossed it into the hamper on top of his bloody clothes. He pulled a clean t-shirt from a drawer and slipped it over his head, careful not to mess his hair, and then flopped face-down on his soft, warm bed.

He was almost asleep when the chime sounded at his door.

"Come in," came his muffled reply, and a moment later the door swished open. He turned his head, cracking one eye open to see who was there.

_Teyla._

Sheppard scrambled up from his bed at the sight of her standing there in his doorway.

"Hey," he said, straightening his shirt and running a hand through his hair.

"Samantha said you wanted to speak with me?" She asked, letting the door close behind her.

"Yeah. Why don't you sit down?"

"I am fine, thank you."

They stared at each other for an awkward moment, until he finally understood that she was waiting for him to explain why he needed to see her.

"Uh. So, we found Kanaan. You were right about something being wrong." She merely nodded, so he rushed on before he lost his nerve. "Well, we managed to rescue him and his men. But he, uh, he was badly injured in the escape."

There. He'd said it. Now, all he had to do was wait for her reaction, whatever that may be.

Teyla let his words seep into her brain. Kanaan…injured.

"How badly?" She asked him, her voice barely above a whisper.

_Here it comes_, he thought. Aloud, he replied, "Pretty badly. He lost a lot of blood."

Still she was calm. "How?"

"Shot in the back." He tried to take her arm, but she moved just enough so that he couldn't reach her. He blew out a breath. "Teyla, I'm sorry."

"Are you?"

Her reply took him by surprise, and he tipped his head slightly. "What do you mean?"

"You have never trusted Kanaan, from the beginning. Maybe you are glad he is injured."

Now Sheppard was angry. He stepped forward and took her by both arms, his grip strong but not painful. "Listen. Back then, he was under Wraith control. Michael's control. So no, I didn't trust him. But after he helped us out, all that changed."

She looked away, her anger visible through her chocolate eyes, but he shook her once to make her look at him again. "Teyla, why would I wish ill on the father of my best friend's child? On the love of her life?"

At this, her eyes filled with tears. _So that's what he thought of Kanaan and me?_ she asked herself. _No wonder he was so eager to find Kanaan_. "He is not the love of my life."

"I…he isn't?" Confusion reigned on Sheppard's handsome face, and she shook her head.

"No. It is true, that I care for him deeply. But we were just close childhood friends, comforting each other. Torren was quite…unplanned."

Sheppard was still very confused, and he didn't enjoy the feeling. It frustrated him. "Well, then," he hissed, "why are you so angry at me?"

Teyla flung up her hands in defeat. "I do not know. I am worried, I suppose. Kanaan has always been a dear friend, and a good father for Torren. I do not want to lose him."

Sheppard truly felt sorry for her then. Sure, he'd had a feeling the conversation would go like this, but that didn't make it any easier. If anything, it made things worse. Easing his grip on her arms, he looked down into her eyes and tried to smile.

"Well, you haven't lost him yet. Why don't we go to the infirmary so you can see him?"

"All right," she agreed, managing to return his lopsided grin.

As they walked out of his room, she stopped him with a hand on his arm. "John?"

"Yeah?"

"I am sorry for my anger toward you. Thank you for trying to rescue Kanaan."

The look of pain, mixed with gratitude, was not lost on him, and he nodded solemnly.

"It's what I'm here for."

* * *

Dr. Jennifer Keller was darting around the infirmary when Sheppard and Teyla walked in, her strawberry-blond hair coming loose from her ponytail and sticking to her sweat-glistened forehead. She had discarded her white lab coat some time ago, with the feeling that it somehow slowed her down, and now it lay draped across a stray chair, the belt snaking along the floor like a long, white worm.

When she noticed the two newcomers, Dr. Keller plastered a smile on her face and walked up to them, flipping her stethoscope around her neck.

"Hi. We've got Kanaan stabilized, but we haven't been able to stop the bleeding. We tried to operate, but we kept losing him, so we packed the wound as best we could, and tried to make him comfortable."

Sheppard crossed his arms over his chest and leaned forward a little. "Bottom line it, Doctor."

Jennifer shot him a look, then turned to Teyla and rested her hand on her arm. "I'm afraid he doesn't have long."

"I understand," Teyla choked out. "May I see him?"

"Of course," Jennifer replied softly. "I'm sorry, Teyla."

Teyla nodded. "You did your best. Thank you."

With an apologetic shake of her head to them both, Jennifer hurried off to answer the beep of a computer, proclaiming that some lab results she was waiting for had finally come in.

Sheppard murmured something in Teyla's ear, and then stood near the infirmary door, leaning as casually as he could against the frame. In reality, however, his thoughts were in turmoil. His mission had failed. Sure, he had rescued Kanaan's men; but he had lost the most important man in the group. He wasn't sure Teyla would ever forgive him for it, even if it hadn't directly been his fault. More importantly, he wasn't sure he would forgive himself.

Teyla approached Kanaan's bed slowly, as if afraid that any loud noise or quick movement would immediately cease his life. She took in the tangle of IVs; the bandage around his torso, soaked with bright red blood; the way everyone in the room spoke in hushed tones, and finally it hit her; _Kanaan was dying_. She slipped into the chair beside the bed, and placed her slender hand over his, her eyes instantly welling with tears.

"Kanaan," she said, and though he didn't reply, his eyelids fluttered slightly. She sighed, steeling herself against the wave of emotions within her. "It is Teyla. I know you are worried about leaving me, and Torren. But I want you to know, that we will not be alone."

She leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on his stubbled cheek. "Your promise to protect me has been fulfilled, Kanaan. For the first time in many years, we are safe from the Wraith."

"I…I'm sorry," Kanaan's whisper reached her ears, and she looked down at him. Though his skin was already turning pale, his eyes were open, and he managed a smile. "I…shouldn't…have left you."

"Shh," she soothed, touching a finger to his lips. "It is all right. Soon, you will be with the Ancestors, and will feel no more pain."

"Sheppard…where…?" He breathed, and she quickly gestured for Sheppard to come over. When he was standing beside her, Kanaan took hold of his hand, and placed it over Teyla's. "Take care…my family."

Blinking in surprise (no, he was _not_ about to cry), Sheppard nodded and croaked out, "I will. I promise."

"Tired."

Teyla could hear his voice fading even more as he said this, and she murmured near his ear, "Then sleep, dear one. Sleep, and I will sing you on your journey to the Ancestors."

Kanaan's eyes slid closed again, as Teyla began to sing in her beautiful soprano. For once in his life, Kanaan seemed to be at peace, even when the heart monitor began to flat line, sending its squealing tone throughout the infirmary. Jennifer had materialized beside the bed sometime in between, and switched off the monitor, not caring to wipe away the tears that streaked down her freckled face.

Teyla carefully lifted the sheet over Kanaan's still form, her breath coming in great sobs. Her heart ached like nothing she had ever felt, and her hands felt clumsy and numb.

When she finally turned away from Kanaan, Sheppard looked down at her, his concern for her clear in his eyes.

"Would you like me to walk you to your room, or somewhere?" He asked softly, but she shook her head.

"Thank you, John, but I wish to be alone. Could you please tell Rodney to care for Torren for a little while longer?"

Understanding her desire for privacy, Sheppard nodded. "Of course. But if you need anything, call me, okay?"

She smiled. It was just like him to offer his help, but grieving for Kanaan was something she had to do on her own. "I will," she said, and was again mildly surprised when he leaned down to touch her forehead with his own. Then, he swiftly turned on his heel and exited the room, leaving her standing there, alone with her pain yet again.

* * *

_Notes: So, anyone who knows me understands how I feel about Kanaan/Teyla. Although, I didn't really mean to kill him off...I'm secretly happy about it, anyway...somewhere deep in my dark side._ _Um, also, get ready for tears in the next chapter. Hey, you've been warned! R&R as usual._


	3. Memories

HALF-LIVES

CHAPTER 3

* * *

The mess hall was nearly empty, the lights turned way down so that only the food tables were clearly lit. It was just the way he'd hoped it would be. He grabbed an empty cup from a table, then filled it with hot, black coffee and sat in a corner of the room, his hands wrapped around the cup. He stared off into nowhere, letting his myriad of thoughts take over for a while. He watched a few people enter the room even as a few others left, seeing them not as solid shapes, but more like shadows passing by him.

He took a swig of his coffee, then set the cup down on the table before him as a strange, hollow feeling overtook him. He crossed his arms on the table and rested his head in them, trying to understand the sudden surge of emotions that threatened to overtake him. He hadn't felt this alone since his mother had died, when he was a child. Back then, he had a treehouse to escape to, but there was nowhere for him to hide now. Not for long, anyway.

His throat suddenly felt tight, and his eyes burned so much that he rubbed them against his forearm, just then noticing that he'd left a trail of moisture on his skin. _Come on,_ he scolded himself, though oddly enough, it was not his own voice that he heard in his head, but his father's; _toughen up_.

"Shut up!" he hissed aloud at himself, suddenly not caring if anyone heard him. He'd always been taught that there was no room for emotions in a man's heart and mind. But then, why was his body rebelling against it? Burying his head deeper in his arms, he stopped fighting his fear and sadness, and soon heard his own sobs as they wracked his chest, let loose after so many years. Hot tears dripped from his eyes and down his nose, to pool on the cold, hard tabletop, until he had to lift his head a little so he didn't feel as if he were drowning.

He'd failed her. He'd failed everyone. He was the reverse of King Midas; instead of everything turning to gold when he touched it, it turned to dust. He suddenly felt unworthy of anyone's friendship, much less of anyone's love. He rocked back and forth, as if in great physical pain, silently cursing his father for everything he'd done, as well as his mother for leaving him.

"John," a voice called softly from beside him, and a gentle hand rested on his quivering shoulder. He knew it was her without even looking, and he was embarrassed to let her see him like this. But it was too late for that; she was there.

Teyla was concerned. She had never seen Sheppard like this, and to be honest, it frightened her. Slowly, afraid he would pull away, she slipped her arm around his shoulders and gently pulled him closer to her. He didn't move away, in fact, he lifted his left arm from the table and wrapped it around her waist, using his right hand to wipe his eyes.

"Are you all right, John?" Teyla asked him, and he nodded at first. Then, another wave hit him, and he shook his head.

"I'm so sorry, Teyla," he gasped out.

She squeezed him once, and then crouched down so she could look into his eyes. The sadness she saw there broke her heart. "John," she scolded lightly, "it is not your fault."

"It's not about Kanaan," he replied, though in part, it was. He heaved in a sigh before he continued, "I'm sorry for the way I've treated you the past year. I was just so upset and afraid for you and Torren."

"But we have talked about this. All was forgiven long ago."

He sniffed, and rubbed his hand over his face. "By you, maybe. But I haven't forgiven myself."

Teyla looked at him, her surprise shown clear in her eyes. After a moment, she stood, and held out her hand. Sheppard stared up at her, confused, until she smiled.

"Perhaps this is not the best place to talk about this," she explained, and he nodded. Taking her hand, he rose from his chair to stand beside her.

"Where should we go?" He asked.

She thought about it for a moment. "I really should relieve Rodney from watching Torren. My quarters?"

Sheppard agreed tentatively, and they made their way through the long corridors of Atlantis together, until they reached Teyla's room. She waved her hand over the control beside the door, and it slid open. They stepped over the threshold, and saw the reason it was so quiet inside; Torren was sleeping peacefully in his cradle, and Rodney was sprawled across the nearby couch, also asleep. Teyla cast a smiling glance back at Sheppard, and then stepped over to Rodney. She leaned down and placed her hand on his arm, gently shaking him awake.

"Rodney," she whispered, and he lazily opened his eyes, not wanting to leave the peaceful dream he'd been having. It involved Carter, and a huge field of grass. And that was all he would tell Sheppard later, in the rec room.

"What is it?" he mumbled, ready to fall asleep again at a moment's notice. When he happened to catch sight of Sheppard, however, he suddenly snapped fully awake, and sat up. "Oh, I must've drifted off. Is Torren okay? I knew I shouldn't have lay down, but I was so tired…"

"Rodney, it's okay," Sheppard interrupted him. "Go on back to your room and go to bed."

"Thank you for watching Torren," Teyla chimed in, and Rodney waved dismissively. In doing so, he was unable to cover the yawn that escaped him.

"It's no problem. Anytime," he said, and walked to the door. He stood there, in front of the closed door, for a full minute until Sheppard waved his hand in front of the controls. Rodney glanced back, embarrassed, and then said, "Oh yeah. Thanks. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Teyla and Sheppard said in unison, as the door closed behind him.

Glad that they were alone once again, Teyla sighed and sank down onto the couch, slipping off her shoes and pulling her legs up under her. She gestured for Sheppard to sit down, but he hesitated.

"Please?" she said, again holding out her hand to him.

Wearily rubbing his hand through his hair, he finally relented and took her hand, letting her pull him down beside her. At first, he only stared straight ahead as he struggled to put into words what he was feeling. When he realized it was a futile attempt, he turned and just gazed at her, a small shrug lifting his shoulders.

Though she wasn't used to anyone staring at her for so long without saying anything, it didn't make her uncomfortable. The look in his eyes only made her want to cry; he looked so defeated, so tired. She knew then, that no matter what she said to try and comfort him, it would do no good. He'd been fighting the world, and everything within him, for so long, that she was afraid he'd now given up.

_Be cautious_, she told herself. _Saying the wrong thing now could make him withdraw even farther into himself, and that could be dangerous._

Heeding her own advice, she quietly said, "John, I want to thank you."

"For what?"

"For always being there for me when I needed you."

He scoffed at that. "That's just it. I wasn't there. Not when you were giving birth to Torren. And now, I screwed up and got Kanaan killed."

She was becoming frustrated with him, but she controlled herself and replied, "Neither of those things were your fault, and you know it." She shifted closer to him, and placed her hand over his. "You must stop blaming yourself for every bad thing that happens."

Sheppard closed his eyes, fighting the familiar sick feeling in his gut. "Why not?" he asked her, "my father did."

Teyla felt his words dig into her heart again, like tiny ice crystals piercing her very soul. Unsure of what to say, she merely reached up and ran her hand through his soft hair, and he turned to face her, confused by her actions. He knew that she loved him as a sister did a brother, but was there something else there, hidden in her gaze? He couldn't be sure, and he couldn't bring himself to ask. Not so soon after…_after Kanaan died_, the stubborn side of his mind completed for him.

"I dunno," he finally mumbled, resting his head against the back of the couch. "I'm just so tired."

Feigning innocence at his statement, she nodded. "We are all short on sleep these days."

Sheppard chuckled for the first time in a few days, at least. "Not exactly what I meant, but thanks for the sympathy."

She grinned and patted his arm, as he sighed deeply. "I've always been the strong, take-no-bull-from- anyone kind of guy, you know? But it all eats at me every day, and especially at night. I haven't slept right for months. I just wanna sleep, Teyla. I'm sick of feeling so empty inside all the time."

With tears bright in her eyes, she nodded again. "I know."

Suddenly, Sheppard realized what he must be putting her through, making her listen to his problems even while her former lover lay still in the infirmary, his life snuffed out too soon. How could she simply sit there, crying for Sheppard's pain, and let him ignore hers? Angry at himself for being so selfish, he started to slide off the couch. Teyla grabbed his wrist before he could stand up.

"Where are you going?" She asked him, letting a lone tear slide down her tanned cheek. Her stomach dropped into her feet, and she could feel panic settling in. _Why should I panic?_ She asked herself, even as she pulled harder on his wrist; was she afraid to be alone? Or, was she really afraid to leave him alone, because he might do something to harm himself?

"I shouldn't be doing this to you," he explained, using his other hand to gently pry her hand from his arm. "You have enough to deal with. You don't need my problems."

Frustrated, she stood up and crossed her arms, her cheeks reddened slightly. "What if I want them?"

He raised his eyebrows at her. "What?"

"It is your unwillingness to let others in that has kept you so…conflicted…for so long. If you leave now, then nothing will change." He stood then as well, and she stepped closer to him, her arms still crossed as if to protect herself. "Why will you not let me help you, as you have helped me?"

Remembering that Torren was asleep nearby, he hissed, "Because you can't."

"Why not?" Teyla hissed back, her dark eyes intense.

Angry and exhausted, Sheppard finally reached the point where his mind actually stopped working, and he simply repeated the motto his father had instilled in him years ago. "Because I am a man, and men aren't supposed to have feelings!"

Teyla glared at him for a moment, as if she were making sure she had heard him correctly. Then, she merely nodded slowly.

"If that is true," she replied quietly, "then why are you angry?"

He blinked, puzzled. "Teyla, what the hell are you talking about?"

She shrugged. "Is anger not a 'feeling'?"

"Well, yes, but I don't see what that has to do…"

Teyla stopped him with a hand on the side of his face. "If it were true that men should not have feelings, then men would be nothing more than…" she struggled to find a word to fit.

"Robots?" He offered, and she nodded, deciding that his description would suffice.

"Emotions are something we humans have, that many other beings do not share with us. They make us special."

He nodded slowly, and without another word, she let her hand fall from his face and walked over to Torren's cradle, peering down lovingly at her son.

Unsure of what to do or say next, Sheppard stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, watching her tenderly caress her baby's sleeping face. He'd always been fascinated with her strong, slender body, at her inherent grace and beauty; but now, as he watched her with her baby, he was truly in awe of her. He'd wanted to tell her as much for some time, but it just never seemed like the appropriate thing to do. So, he was forced to stand by as she lived her life, first with Torren and later with Kanaan. Every day, it got harder, but, he reasoned with himself, it was his own stupid fault. He'd let her slip away.

"John?" Teyla's voice broke him out of his thoughts, and he cocked an eyebrow at her to show that he'd heard her.

"Hmm?" he added, in case she hadn't been looking.

"I…could you…"

He saw the way she was gasping for breath, her knuckles white from gripping the side of the baby's crib, and rushed to stand beside her. He took her by the elbow, supporting her weight, and led her toward the couch.

"What's wrong?" he asked her, concern quickly furrowing his brow. She tried to speak, but the pain she was feeling doubled her over, and she could only shake her head.

"Hang on," he said, then quickly tapped at his earpiece. "Dr. Keller? I need you in Teyla's quarters. It's an emergency."

* * *

Teyla's eyes fluttered open, but she had to close them again when a bright light shone directly into her face. She groaned softly, and a dark shadow temporarily blocked the light, just enough so she could open her eyes. A warm hand covered her own, the fingertips lightly brushing her skin.

"Hey. How you doin'?" The shadow asked, and she managed a small grin.

"I am all right, John. What happened?"

"Well, Dr. Keller's working on the answer for that right now. All I know is, you passed out before I could get you on your couch."

Dr. Keller appeared on the other side of the bed then, and smiled down at her. "He carried you all the way down here, you know."

Teyla smiled back, though she mentally kicked her own body for being so weak. "Another event he will not soon let me forget." Then, she raised her head and looked around frantically, "Where is Torren?"

She tried to slide out of the bed, but Sheppard gently pushed her back down by the shoulder. "Settle down, Momma Bear. Colonel Carter is taking a turn with him, until the Doc releases you."

Teyla lay there, staring up at him, and then nodded. "All right."

"What's the story here, Doc?" he asked Keller then, as he tried in vain to find something to lean against. Defeated, he crossed his arms instead.

Doctor Keller glanced down at her tablet, then back up at him. "So far, everything looks normal. I don't see anything that would've caused the intense pain you seemed to experience. I'm guessing that your losing consciousness was due to that sudden pain, and not anything neurological. It's so odd."

"English, please," Sheppard reminded her, and she chuckled as she patted Teyla's arm.

"Just take it easy for a few days. Let anyone who asks help with the baby, and relax. I'll want to see you after then to follow up, okay?"

"Thank you, Dr. Keller," Teyla replied, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her.

"No problem," she said, and after a quick nod to Sheppard, she made her way into her office.

"Come on," Sheppard urged then, holding out his hand for her, "Let's get you to bed."

"That is a wonderful idea," Teyla agreed. She swung her legs over the side of the infirmary bed, then took his hand and stood up slowly, giving her limbs time to remember what they were supposed to do. When she was ready, she gave him a nod, and he silently led her back to her room, never once letting go of her hand.

She smiled inwardly at the proud look he carried on his face, as if he were a humble stable-boy escorting a princess. _He really was a handsome man_, she thought often; it wasn't fair that he had so many ghosts in his head, nor was it fair that it was his own father who had put them there. There were so many voices for him to listen to in there, that he often forgot that his was there, as well.

Too soon, they had arrived at her quarters, and he bowed slightly as he opened the door for her.

"There you are, Madame. Sleep well," he drawled in his best English accent, and she laughed aloud.

"Thank you, kind sir. And you as well."

He stood there before her for a moment, as if he were deciding on something. Then, so slowly it appeared as if he was in a slow-motion scene in one of his beloved action movies, he leaned down and gently brushed his lips against her forehead. Then, he winked at her and walked back down the hall to his own room, without uttering another word.

She watched him go, her mind desperately trying to think of a reason to call him back, but nothing would come. She saw him disappear around a corner, and slid around the door frame into her room, never wanting to forget the feel of his lips on her skin.

* * *

Rodney McKay sat in his lab, peering wearily at his computer screen. A few minor issues had arisen recently with the ventilation system, and he was trying to fix them; so far he'd met with little success. He'd been sitting at his station for a tad over five hours, and had accomplished mostly nothing.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, he slid off his chair and headed for his coffee pot. He lifted it and went to pour himself a cup without even looking at it, at least not until he realized that the pot was empty.

"What?" he asked aloud. He was sure it had been half-full the last time he'd gone for a cup.

Zelenka walked into the room just then, and noticed the puzzled look on his friend's face. Grinning, he went over to Rodney and patted his shoulder.

"Still working, eh?"

Rodney set the pot back into the coffeemaker, and began to prepare a new pot for himself as he replied, "Yes, of course I am. I have to get ventilation working properly as soon as possible. It's _kind_ of important."

"Would you like me to help?" Zelenka asked, already knowing Rodney's answer. McKay rather preferred working alone. _Most likely so he can gain all the credit when something is fixed_, Zelenka grouched inwardly. Rodney might be brilliant, but sometimes his ego was much too big for his body.

"Thank you, but no," Rodney replied, and Zelenka nodded, his prediction fulfilled. "I can fix it, I just need more time to figure out what the problem is."

"All right. I'll be downstairs if you change your mind."

Too busy watching his precious coffee brewing, Rodney merely waved his hand and said, "Hmm? Oh, okay. Sure."

With a small chuckle, Zelenka left the room, and Rodney sighed again. The pot was taking too long to fill up, so he quickly pulled it out and poured what was already inside into his cup, then slid it back into the maker to finish brewing. He took a sip of the black liquid, enjoying the bitter-nutty flavor, and stepped back over to his workstation. His satisfied grin quickly turned into a frown when he glanced at his computer screen.

"Simulation failed? Aw, come on!"

Setting his coffee cup down nearby, he rubbed a hand over his face, then got back to work.

TBC...

* * *

_Notes: Don't worry, Rodney will get plenty more time in the story as it goes on. After Shep, he's my fav. character...he's kinda got my sense of humor, so...yeah. Hope you're liking it so far!_


	4. The Nightmare Begins

HALF-LIVES

CHAPTER 4

* * *

It was morning. Sheppard could feel the sun on his face, warm and comforting. He opened his eyes, and was instantly confused. This wasn't Atlantis, he realized; this room was strange, and yet somehow familiar at the same time. The walls were paneled wood, the bed covered in a gold-patterned comforter. The carpet was a deep red, soft and plush, the kind your feet sank into when you stepped on it.

"The hell?" He murmured to himself, getting out of the bed and staring at the room around him.

Sheppard walked over to the tall dresser that stood in a corner, and slid open the top drawer. It stuck at first, then opened with a small squeak. That single sound triggered a memory back in his mind, and his stomach suddenly felt like lead.

He was home. Well, his childhood home, anyway.

Sheppard stepped over to the door, which was standing open, and walked out into the hallway. Voices emanated from the living room, speaking in hushed tones. A woman dressed in black passed the end of the hall, her blond hair shining in the bright sunshine that seemed to pour through every window in the house.

He recognized the woman immediately, and started to run after her, but his legs wouldn't move as fast as he wanted them to. He felt as if he were running through molasses, as if his legs suddenly weighed a hundred pounds each.

"Mom!" He called out, still only halfway down the hall. His voice sounded flat and far away, and for some reason, it frightened him more than not being able to run.

Finally, he made it to the end of the hall, and stepped out into the living room. At least thirty people stood in the room, still speaking in their hushed voices. He spotted his father in a corner, talking with another, taller man. His father was wearing a dark suit, and his expression appeared subdued, if not sad. Sheppard's brother stood near where the living room met the dining room, his eyes red and swollen from crying, and Sheppard suddenly remembered this day. This was the day of his mother's funeral.

"John?" called a familiar voice behind him, and he spun around. His mother stood there before him, a pretty smile on her porcelain face. She reached out her hand and placed it on his shoulder, her blue eyes sparkling with tears.

"Mom, what are you doing here?" He asked her, afraid and confused at the same time. He knew she was dead, and yet, she seemed so real; he could feel the warmth of her hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, John, I am dead," she stated plainly, though he was certain he hadn't said that aloud.

"What's going on here?" He nearly shouted, and she frowned a little.

"You need to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?"

She nodded, then turned her face to glance at the front of the living room. He followed her gaze, and his eyes finally spotted a casket set in front of the fireplace, where a few people were standing, looking down at the person laid inside it. She patted his shoulder comfortingly, and then stepped away with an expectant look at him.

"Go on," she said before turning away to talk to dark-haired woman nearby.

Slowly, Sheppard made his way toward the casket, ignoring the presence of everyone else in the room. He edged around an older man who stood in front of the casket, nearly knocking over a bouquet of flowers set on a table beside it.

His heart seemed to fly into his throat when he saw who was placed inside the casket.

It was Teyla.

She was dressed in a long, flowing white dress, tied around the waist with a gold belt. Her long, golden-brown hair curled around her body, shiny and fragrant as always. Her thick, dark lashes rested on her cheeks, hiding her brown doe eyes from his view.

Not believing that any of this was real, he reached down and touched one of her hands, which had been crossed over her chest. Her skin was cool under his fingers, and it was only then he realized that she was indeed dead.

"No," he whispered. "No, it's not real."

"I'm sorry, John," his mother's voice said from beside him, and he turned to face her, his jaw clenched in anger.

"Why are you doing this?" He growled, and she seemed surprised by his accusation.

"I'm not doing anything, John. You couldn't save her."

Shaking his head, he said, "This isn't real. I…I have to be dreaming."

He looked back down at Teyla's lifeless form, trying to will himself awake from this nightmare. He would never accept that any of this was really happening.

Suddenly, Teyla's eyes flew open, and she stared straight into Sheppard's eyes. He jumped back, startled, and again bumped into the floral arrangement to his left. This time, however, it tipped too far, and fell to the floor with a crash.

The noise of the glass vase breaking was just enough to wake Sheppard up, and he sat up straight, flipping on the light beside his bed as he did. His breath came in gasps, and as he looked around at the familiar sight of his room on Atlantis, he realized that he was drenched in sweat. He got out of bed, tossing the damp sheets off the mattress, and made his way into the bathroom. The light went on automatically as he stepped into the room, and he frowned as he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. His hair was stuck to his forehead, and the dark shadows under his eyes were more pronounced, as if he hadn't slept at all in a month.

"Might as well be true," he grumbled as he turned on the faucet and splashed cool water onto his face. He stared back up at himself, the events of the dream rushing back to him like a tidal wave, making his stomach churn with worry. He had to make sure Teyla was okay.

Sheppard shut off the water and dried his face, then changed out of his sweat-drenched clothes, tossing them into a corner with a mental note to get them washed later. He glanced down at his watch. 3 a.m. With a sigh, he left his room and started toward Teyla's.

He was about halfway there when he nearly walked right into Ronon, who was taking his usual early-morning stroll around the city.

"Hey," Ronon rumbled, and Sheppard managed a small grin.

"Hey, yourself."

"Why you up so early? Or late?" His tall, dreadlocked friend asked, and he shrugged.

"Couldn't sleep."

Ronon eyed him suspiciously. "Where are you headed?"

Sheppard's eyes darted around as he tried to figure out how to answer Ronon without lying outright. Then, he replied, "I, uh, need to check on something."

"Mm," Ronon said, cocking his head to the side. He considered busting Sheppard then, but the weary look in his friend's eyes stopped him, and he simply nodded instead.

"Well, when you're done, I'll be in the gym if you wanna spar for a while."

Relieved that Ronon had accepted his explanation, Sheppard nodded. "I might just take you up on that. See you later."

"Yep."

Sheppard stood and watched Ronon as he walked down the hall in the opposite direction, and when he was out of sight, Sheppard heaved a sigh and continued on his way to Teyla's quarters. When he reached her door, he stood in front of it for a few minutes, wondering if he should really do this. It was silly, acting on a dream, wasn't it? Chances are, she was fine, and he was overreacting.

He was just about to open the door, when it slid aside, and Teyla stood there staring at him. She was wearing a silky, sapphire-blue pajama top and matching shorts, and on top of that was a fuzzy white robe, the belt left untied. Her feet were bare, and he noticed that her toes were painted a pretty shade of pink.

"Uh," he stammered, "hi."

"John." She was smiling, but her eyes seemed sad, and a little surprised to see him.

"So, I couldn't sleep, and I was taking a walk. Happened to pass by your door, and I wondered if you were up, but I didn't wanna disturb you."

"Of course."

He stood there, rocking on his heels for a moment, then asked, "Everything okay?"

"Yes. Why would it not be?"

Sheppard shrugged. _See?_ he told himself. _She's fine_. "No reason. Just curious."

She gazed at him, as if she wanted to say something, then shook her head. "It is strange."

He cocked an eyebrow. "What is?"

Realizing she had said it out loud, she blushed and replied, "I was having a very odd dream just a while ago."

"Hmm," was all he said. He noticed a small group of people walk by them with curious looks on their faces, and he leaned a little closer to her. "Could I come in for a minute?"

She, too, had noticed the glances cast their way, and nodded even as she moved aside to make room for him to enter her quarters. "Of course."

As the door hissed shut behind him, Sheppard's eyes swept the room, then flicked toward the cradle beside Teyla's bed. Torren was asleep as usual, his lips moving as if he were eating. Sheppard smiled at that. Torren always seemed hungry; if he didn't know better, he'd swear that Torren was Rodney's kid.

"So," he said then, "what was this 'strange' dream of yours?"

She grinned somewhat nervously, and sat down on the edge of the bed, involuntarily smoothing the covers on either side of her slender, yet muscular, legs.

"I dreamed that I was in my village. I woke in my tent, and when I went outside, Kanaan was there, alive. Only, I knew that was not possible, and he confirmed my belief when he spoke to me. He told me that I had to say 'goodbye'. I was confused, until he led me to another tent. Many mourners were inside, and when I approached the body, I expected to find it was Kanaan."

She seemed troubled even now, so long after she had awakened from the dream. Sheppard knew exactly how she felt.

He sat down beside her and gazed into her eyes.

"It wasn't him, though," he said, more a statement than a question, and Teyla nodded.

In a whisper, she replied, "It was you."

"Figures."

She cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

He sighed and lay back on the bed, his hands folded behind his head. "I had the same dream. Only it was in my parents' house, at my mom's funeral. And it was you in the casket."

"We had the same dream?" She asked aloud, though she really wasn't addressing him; he nodded anyway.

"Seems so."

"How is this possible?"

Sheppard shrugged, the movement lessened by the position of his arms. "Maybe it's just a coincidence. A very odd, and somewhat creepy, coincidence."

Teyla eyed him, unsure of his explanation, but said nothing. The silence continued for a while, but it was a comfortable silence. Sheppard closed his eyes, completely at ease there on her bed, and soon felt Teyla's weight lift from the mattress. A few moments later, he heard a drawer open, followed by the sound of her bare feet on marble. When he heard the muted noise of water splashing into the sink, he figured she was in the bathroom, most likely washing her face.

Sheppard let his mind flow wherever it wanted to, not staying on any one thought for long. At first, it went back to his rescue of Kanaan, wondering if he could've done anything different. Next came images from his dream earlier that night. The sight of his mother standing there in the living room, looking as alive as he'd remembered her. Her golden hair shining in the sun, curled ever so slightly as to reveal her Scottish heritage; her blue eyes so vibrant, they seemed to make everything else around her fade in color. God, he missed her so much.

Teyla watched Sheppard sleeping peacefully, for what must've been the first time in months. His chest rose and fell slowly, calmly; his eyes underneath their lids moved, but not very quickly. She smiled softly at the sight before grabbing a spare blanket from the couch and carefully laying it over him. She checked on Torren once more, and was glad that he also was sleeping.

She idled around the kitchen, washing a few of Torren's bottles, then setting them in the drainer to dry. She was about to get herself a drink of water when she heard Sheppard murmur her name, and she turned to look at him. He appeared to still be sleeping, but she went over anyway.

"John?" she whispered, and he opened one eye to peer at her.

"You should sleep," he said, fatigue cracking his voice.

"I will, soon."

He moved over on the bed, making room enough for her. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of sharing the bed with him, but she forced her voice to stay calm, "John, I think it would be best if I…"

"Teyla." With that one word, her name, he reassured her that it would be alright, that nothing would happen. Reluctantly, she removed the robe she'd been wearing and hung it over the back of a nearby chair, then climbed under the covers, savoring the softness of the sheets against her bare legs. Sheppard got up and also slid beneath the comforter, his body turned to face hers. He blinked slowly a few times, drinking in the sight of her. Then, he smiled that roguish smile of his, before touching his forehead to hers. She was surprised by his gentle demeanor, and wondered instantly if this was a big mistake. Just then, he rolled over to face away from her, and said, "Goodnight, Teyla."

She gazed at the back of his head, noticing the way his hair rested against the nape of his neck. She had the sudden and overwhelming urge to reach out and touch it, but she resisted. Instead, she only replied, "Goodnight, John."

* * *

Dr. Jennifer Keller sat at her desk, just beginning to go through a few patient files that needed to be put in order. It was very early, the sun hardly a sliver on the horizon, and she yawned, wishing she could go back to bed for an hour or two. Alas, it was not to be. The door to the infirmary slid open, and a young Marine walked in, a cut on his forehead bleeding fairly quickly.

Jennifer sighed as she reached where he stood. "Sparring with Ronon?"

The Marine nodded.

"Hop up here," she said, patting the bed nearby. He did so, and she checked the wound, trying not to prod it too much. "Okay, looks like you just need a few stitches. I'll send Marie over."

"Thanks, Doc," the young man said, and she nodded.

"Be more careful next time."

She turned to leave, and nearly ran into the subject of her ire. Ronon stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, sweat from his workout with – no, _on_, she corrected – the Marine still standing on his forehead.

Jennifer recovered and jabbed a finger at his broad chest. "And you! If you want to beat up on someone, why don't you get some dummies or something?"

He seemed amused by her anger, as was the Marine, who was stifling a chuckle behind his hand. It only served to intensify her temper. "Dummies?" he rumbled, and she nodded.

"Yes. They're made of foam, and made to look like people."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "But they don't fight back."

She stood there, staring at him in unbelief. Finally, she threw up her hands in defeat. "I give up! Next time someone comes in here with 'battle wounds' or whatever, you're stitching them up yourself!"

"Fine," he shrugged.

"Fine." She stalked away from him and found Marie in the back room. She told her to stitch up the Marine's head wound, and walked back into her office. A few minutes later, as she slid the files she'd been working on into the cabinet, she was aware of a hulking shadow over her shoulder.

"What now?" she asked the man behind her. He took that as an invitation to enter the room, and took a step forward.

"I just wanted to say I was…uh, sorry."

His tone startled her, and she whirled around to face him. Ronon's gaze at her told her he was telling the truth. She cocked her head. "Sorry? For what?"

"For making you angry."

"It's fine," she replied, waving off his concern.

"You sure?" He asked, crossing his arms again and staring straight into her eyes.

"Yep." She looked down at her feet, suddenly shy for some reason that even she couldn't figure out. "I shouldn't have yelled at you, anyway. I'm just…I haven't been sleeping well for a few days, and I snapped."

Ronon shrugged. "You're under a lot of stress. It happens."

Jennifer frowned. "Still, I shouldn't have gotten so angry. It was an accident, after all."

He was silent for a while, seemingly bothered by something, but not willing to discuss it. She put her hand on his arm and looked up into his dark brown eyes.

"Are we cool?" she asked him, and he nodded.

"Yeah."

She grinned at him. "Good."

He seemed to still want to say something to her, to ask her something, but then he thought better of it and left her office without another word. Jennifer shrugged. He wasn't much of a talker, anyway; it was his way to be the strong, silent type. She turned back to her work, but was interrupted by Marie shouting for her at top volume. She rushed into the infirmary, and what she saw made her feet skid to a full stop. Her heart jumped into her throat, and she had to mentally force herself to stay calm.

Ronon was lying on the floor, unconscious. Marie was bent over him, trying to feel for his pulse.

"What happened?" Jennifer asked her, kneeling beside her. She peeled open his eyelid, and shined her penlight at his pupil, then repeated her motions with his other eye. They seemed to be okay.

"I don't know," Marie replied, "he apologized to Sergeant Lucas for the wound, and as he was walking away, he just stopped, put his hand to his head, and went down."

Puzzled, Jennifer looked down at him, then at Marie. "Well, we need to get him in a bed. Seems like he's gonna be out for a while."

Marie stared at her as if to say, "You've gotta be kidding." There was no way the two of them could lift his massive body off the floor, much less get him up into a bed.

Jennifer nodded. "Yeah. I'd better call someone to help."

Marie stood up and walked over to prepare a bed for Ronon, as Jennifer tapped her communicator.

"Colonel Sheppard?"

His hushed voice spoke into her ear after a short silence. "Dr. Keller?"

"Could you please come to the infirmary right away?"

* * *

From where he stood near the door, Sheppard turned to look at Teyla's sleeping form. He didn't want to leave without explaining where he'd gone, but he didn't want to wake her, and Keller's voice sounded urgent. Rubbing a hand through his hair, he sighed.

"Sure. I'm on my way."

He found a scrap of paper on her bedside table, and a pen in the kitchen. He scribbled a note as quickly but legibly as he could, and then realized he didn't know quite where to put it. Finally, he decided to stick it on the pillow he'd slept on, and as he did, he stole yet another glance at Teyla. Then, he turned and left her quarters, jogging down the hall toward the infirmary.

"Colonel? Where are you?" Keller again.

"Almost there," he replied, trying not to sound too winded.

A moment later, he rushed through the infirmary door. "What's so important, anyway? Did I miss another physical?"

Jennifer shook her head and moved to the side. He immediately noticed Ronon there on the floor, and his eyes searched Jennifer's face, wanting – no, needing – an explanation.

She understood his expression, and began to fill him in. "He was fine one moment, and the next, he grabbed his head and collapsed."

"How long's he been out?" he asked.

"Around five minutes. We couldn't lift him by ourselves, and you were the first person I thought of."

"All right," Sheppard said, kneeling down beside his friend, "you two take his legs, and I'll get his top half."

After a few failed attempts to lift the huge Satedan, they finally had him situated in a bed, and Jennifer was taking his blood pressure. Sheppard stood silently nearby, trying to look unconcerned, but failing miserably. He had the nagging feeling that something horribly wrong was going on in Atlantis, and not just because two of the strongest warriors in the city had collapsed, within hours of each other. Call it his military training, call it intuition – hell, blame it on the Ancient gene he carried in his blood – something was trying to warn him. And what was up with his and Teyla's shared dream? Did that have anything to do with this somehow? There seemed to be more questions than answers, and that frustrated him even further. Nothing made sense. Nothing like this had ever happened to Ronon before. Unless, he argued, you count all the times he'd been hit with a Wraith stunner. Nah, he shook his head; those didn't count, at least not to him.

His thoughts were interrupted by him suddenly becoming aware of Teyla's presence in the room. She caught his eye and slightly inclined her head, and then made her way to Jennifer's side.

"Dr. Keller," she greeted, and Jennifer smiled at her.

"Hi, Teyla."

"What happened to him?" Teyla asked, placing her hand on Ronon's arm

"I'm not quite sure yet. He collapsed, and so far, all the tests I've run have come back normal."

"Could this be related to what happened to me, earlier?"

Keller shrugged. "It's possible, I suppose. But I'm not sure how."

Teyla's eyes showed a hint of fear. "When will he awaken?"

"Could be minutes, hours. I don't know."

The fear in Teyla's eyes was replaced by something Jennifer couldn't quite figure out. Then, Teyla nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Keller." She looked at Sheppard, who was wearing an invisible path across the infirmary's marble floor. "Could I wait here until he does awaken?"

Jennifer smiled again. "Sure. Just try to keep your voices down, okay?"

"Of course."

With a nod, Jennifer walked away, and Teyla moved toward Sheppard and placed her hand on his arm. He stopped pacing and looked up at her, seeming to finally remember where he was, and why.

"Hey," he said.

"Are you all right?"

Sheppard nodded, but his expression remained the same. "I'm fine. You?"

She gave him a small smile. "I am well, thank you."

They let another long pause sit between them, content to simply stand near each other and watch Ronon for any sign of movement. Then, Sheppard turned to face her, and said, "I wanted to thank you for earlier. For letting me sleep."

She inclined her head at him. "You seemed to need the rest."

He grinned at her. "That's an understatement. But seriously, thank you."

"You are welcome, John."

His expression suddenly turned worried, and he asked, "I didn't…talk in my sleep, did I?"

Teyla laughed softly. "No, you did not."

Relieved, Sheppard sighed. "Good."

"Why?" She asked playfully.

"No reason," he replied, too quickly. She quirked an eyebrow at him, but kept silent.

Sheppard opened his mouth to speak, when they both noticed Ronon's eyelids fluttering open.

"Doc!" Sheppard called, and Jennifer immediately emerged from her office. By the time she had reached Ronon, he was already trying to sit up.

"Whoa there, big guy," she said, laying her hand on Ronon's chest. "Take it easy."

"What happened?" he asked.

"You had yourself a little impromptu nap on the infirmary floor," Sheppard replied, and then grinned at Ronon's confused expression.

"What?"

Teyla stepped closer, and explained, "You collapsed."

"Do you remember anything?" Jennifer asked him, and he shook his head.

"I remember talking to Logan. I walked away. That's all." His jaw clenched tightly, obviously angry that he didn't know what was going on. "Can I go now?"

"Sorry, Ronon," Jennifer said, "I want to run a few more tests first."

He scowled darkly, but said nothing.

Sheppard felt bad for him. A big guy like that, stuck in a stupid hospital bed with nothing to do; it had to be driving him nuts. He leaned down and patted Ronon's shoulder. "Don't worry, buddy. I'll stick around until the doc says you can leave."

It seemed to work. Ronon leaned back, sliding his right hand behind his head. "Thanks, Sheppard."

"I will also stay, if you wish," Teyla chimed in, and Ronon nodded.

"Sure, if you don't have to go back to Torren."

She smiled good-naturedly at him. "Dr. McKay has agreed to care for him once again. I believe that his…dislike for children…has all but disappeared."

Ronon chuckled. "Don't count on it. He only likes Torren because he can't talk yet."

Sheppard smiled at Ronon's jab at McKay. It seemed that Ronon was his old self again, and it slightly eased the pit that had knotted in his stomach. _Only slightly_, Sheppard reminded himself. The feeling that this wasn't the end was still there, digging its claws deep into him.

There was certainly more to come.

TBC...

* * *

_Notes: Ample amount of angst and weirdness, yet? No? Well, rest assured, the best is yet to come! Sheppard: "If it has anything to do with Ferris Wheels or football, I'm SO in!" Me: Quiet! You talk more than Rodney!_

_Anyway, R&R...blah blah...I'll try and keep this updated as much as possible...but 4 kids can keep me extremely busy at times...LOL_


	5. Why Can't We Be Friends?

HALF-LIVES

CHAPTER 5

* * *

Samantha Carter found Rodney in his lab, staring at his computer screen with his chin in his hands. Every once in a while, his fingers would tap a few keys, and the image on the screen would change. He seemed to be lost in thought, only pretending to be interested in whatever he was looking at.

Sam cleared her throat then, and Rodney jumped a little in his seat. He turned his head to look at her, and she smiled cheerfully at him. "Hey, Rodney. Whatcha doing?"

He appeared to be puzzled by her question, as if even then, he was distracted by his thoughts. "What?" he asked, then said, "Oh. I was just going over some figures for yet another simulation. I still can't figure out why the computer isn't recognizing the ventilation systems. Zelenka and I checked them, and they appear to be working fine."

"Hmm. Did you try…" she began, but he cut her off, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.

"We've tried everything. Restarting the computer, checking control crystals, disconnecting and reconnecting the ventilation." At her expression, he quickly added, "Immediately, of course, so no one went without proper venting for more than a minute."

She came toward him and placed her hand on his shoulder. "You'll figure it out, Rodney."

"Yes, I will. It's just getting fairly frustrating."

"Maybe if you needed help…"

He sighed. "Zelenka's been in here every few hours or so, trying to get me to let him help me. I just feel like I work better alone."

She seemed slightly disappointed at that, but gave him a small smile anyway. "Well, if you change your mind, I could always help."

He cocked his head at her. "You?"

She nodded.

"Don't you have…commander-ish stuff to do?"

Sam grinned at his typical made-up vocabulary. "It gets surprisingly boring up in that office."

"I bet," he replied under his breath, yet loud enough for her to hear.

"So?" He heard her ask.

"So what?" She gazed expectantly at him, until he understood what she meant, and he shrugged in return. "Right. Well, I suppose you could look over my data, though I doubt there's anything wrong with it."

_Always such a proud man_, she chuckled in her own head. _Completely unwilling to accept that he was only a human being, that he could ever be wrong._ It was what made her like him, and also what utterly annoyed her.

"Okay," she merely replied, removing her jacket and draping it over a chair. She pulled the chair close to his workstation, and sat down in it. "You have any coffee?"

He gazed down at her for a moment, thinking, then nodded. "Yeah."

When he didn't move to get her a cup, she sighed and stood up. "Thanks."

He watched her walk away, unconsciously staring at her long, blonde hair, which was braided down her back and tied with a black band. "No problem," he said, still staring. Then, realizing what he was doing, he shook his head as if to clear away the thoughts rambling through it, and turned back to his computer. She returned a moment later, and held something out to him. He swiveled his chair to look, and saw that she had brought him a mug of coffee. Confused by her thoughtfulness, he blinked rapidly a few times before he took the mug from her hand.

"Thank you, Sam," he said, and she smiled sweetly at him.

"You're welcome, Rodney."

They worked together for two hours, only arguing with each other once in all that time. Finally, their companionable, and quite uncharacteristic, quiet was broken by a burst of static on the comm. in Sam's ear.

"Colonel Carter, SGA-4 has returned."

She frowned apologetically at Rodney. "Sorry, Rodney. Duty calls."

"That's okay," he replied, trying to sound nonchalant. In truth, however, he was more than a little disappointed. He'd hoped to be able to be near her for longer than he had.

"Keep working on it," she said, patting his shoulder as she passed by him, on her way to the door. "I know you can figure this out."

Before he could reply, she was gone, and he went back to staring at the computer screen. At least a dozen times while she'd been there, he'd tried to think of a way to tell her about the dream he'd had, but nothing sounded right. Any way he said it in his head, it sounded…well, creepy. In the end, he'd just given up on the subject. It was just a stupid dream anyway.

_Wasn't it?_ He asked himself.

"Of course it was," he said aloud, instantly feeling like an idiot for it.

Stretching back against the chair, he flexed his head toward his left shoulder, then rolled it toward the right. This whole thing was stupid – the ventilation problem, the dream, everything. None of it made any sense, and so his logical mind decided to just forget everything except the ventilation problem, since it was more than a little important to the people on Atlantis.

He'd figure out the rest later.

* * *

Ronon was released from the infirmary an hour after waking up. Jennifer had gotten the last of the test results just before then, and reading them, she couldn't find a single thing wrong. There was no reason that he should've collapsed like that. _Just like Teyla_, she thought. None of it made any sense.

She'd gone out to the main room then, where Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon were, cracking jokes and telling stories to each other. Jennifer noticed the way Sheppard looked at Teyla every once in a while, and it set her own heart fluttering. She wondered, somewhat sadly, if anyone would ever look at her that way, then shook her head. _Get your head out of the clouds, Jennifer_, she scolded herself.; _you have more important things to worry about._

After explaining the results of the tests, she told a grateful Ronon that he could finally leave.

"However," she said, and his scowl came back to his bearded face. "You need to relax for a few days. And that means _no_ sparring."

He didn't seem happy with that, but he nodded anyway. "All right."

She stared into Sheppard's green eyes. "Colonel, you're in charge of making sure he obeys my order."

"Will do, Doc. Thanks."

"You're welcome," she replied, nodding at Teyla, who returned the motion.

Sheppard and Ronon walked together through the halls, followed closely by Teyla.

"Where are we going?" Teyla asked, though she had already guessed the answer from the direction they were headed.

"Mess hall," both men replied, and she grinned. They might as well have been brothers, they thought so much alike sometimes.

When they reached the mess hall, they all filled their trays with food, and chose a table away from the crowd of people in the room. As usual, Ronon and Sheppard sat across from each other, and Teyla sat to Sheppard's left. They ate in silence for a while, until Ronon suddenly pushed his tray aside and leaned forward, crossing his arms on the table.

"I need to tell you guys something, but you need to keep it a secret," he said, his heavy brows furrowed.

Sheppard looked at him quizzically. "O-kay."

Ronon glanced around until he was satisfied that no one would be able to hear their conversation.

"I had this dream a few nights ago, and since then, I feel like I can't sleep at all."

Sheppard grinned, and Teyla knew he was about to say something flippant. "You, not sleep? What's this world coming to?"

_There it is_, she laughed to herself.

"What kind of dream?" she asked Ronon, and he seemed to become embarrassed.

"I, uh…does it really matter?"

"It does if you want us to help you figure out what's going on," Sheppard put in.

Ronon rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine. I dreamed that I was on Sateda, at the hospital. It was right before I lost my…someone I loved very much. Only instead of her being there, it was someone else."

Intrigued, yet feeling that pit in his stomach again, Sheppard eyed him curiously. "Who was it?"

Again, Ronon was embarrassed. A deep shade of red crept up his neck and into his face. As quietly and quickly as he could, he mumbled, "Doctorkeller."

Almost sure he'd heard what Ronon had said, Sheppard leaned forward. "What was that, buddy? I don't think I got it."

Knowing exactly what Sheppard was doing, Ronon scowled. He knew he couldn't just ask them to forget it; it had already gone this far, he might as well finish it.

"Doctor Keller."

Teyla was more than a little surprised. Every time Ronon encountered the doctor, they seemed ready to fight each other to the death. She wondered now, if that was just a front they put up, so that neither one understood how the other really felt. Or anyone else, for that matter.

Sheppard's grin was near maniacal now.

"Really?" he asked, drawing the word out as long as he could. He leaned back in his chair, his one hand tapping mindlessly on the tabletop. "This is new."

"Sheppard," Ronon growled, "if you say anything to anyone…"

Sheppard laughed then, and Teyla couldn't hide a grin in response. "Don't worry, big guy. I won't tell."

"Better not," the large Satedan grumbled.

Teyla spoke up then. "Ronon, have you mentioned your lack of sleep to Doctor Keller?"

He shook his head. "Why?"

"Maybe it has something to do with your collapse. Perhaps you were simply exhausted."

"You know, she has a point," Sheppard chimed in.

Ronon thought about that for a moment, then shrugged. "What do you think the dream means? You think the doctor's in danger?"

"Nah," Sheppard replied. "I think she'll be okay."

"So I shouldn't worry about it," he said, though it was more a question than a statement.

"Exactly."

Ronon didn't seem to agree, but he kept silent. Then, he glanced over at Teyla's tray.

"You gonna eat that jell-o?"

Teyla grinned widely at him. "You may have it."

"Thanks," he said, and reached over the table to grab it. He ate it in three large spoonfuls and tossed the empty cup on his own tray. "So," he said then, "what do we do now?"

Sheppard thought for a moment before saying, "How about a movie?"

Teyla shook her head. "I am afraid I must get back to my room. Torren will be waking soon."

"Who's watching him, anyway?" Sheppard asked.

"Colonel Carter. She came to speak with me, and…" she was about to mention the note Sheppard had left her, but realized that Ronon would take it the wrong way. She didn't wish to lie, but there was really no other alternative. "She'd informed me of Ronon's collapse. She offered to watch Torren until my return."

"Oh," Sheppard replied, shooting her a knowing glance. Then, he turned to Ronon, "Looks like it's time for a guy movie. You in?"

"Sure."

Relieved that Ronon hadn't seemed to catch her hesitation, she stood up and smiled. "You two enjoy yourselves."

"See ya, Teyla," both men replied, again in unison, and she laughed aloud.

The two men sat together for a while after she left, talking casually. Then, Ronon leaned forward again, and said, "So, are you two gonna talk about it, or what?"

"Talk about what?"

Ronon rolled his eyes. He knew that Sheppard wasn't quite that dense.

"About how you feel about each other."

Though Sheppard was panicking inside, he forced his expression to remain unchanged. "There's nothing to talk about, Ronon."

This time, Ronon burst out laughing. "Sheppard, you're a horrible liar."

Sheppard acted hurt. "Hey!"

"Everyone can see it, you know."

"Ronon, I think all that sparring has messed up your head. Teyla and I are good friends, that's all. She's like a sister to me."

"Uh-huh," Ronon replied. "Fine. Forget I said anything."

"Thank you."

But Sheppard couldn't forget. _Was it true?_ He asked himself. Did everyone really think that he had feelings for Teyla? Shaking his head free of those thoughts, he stood up and pushed his chair in. "Let's get to the rec room and watch that movie."

"Sounds good to me," Ronon replied, and he followed Sheppard out of the mess hall. A smile twitched the corners of his mouth as he walked. He'd gotten a reaction from his friend, and to his surprise, it was exactly the reaction he'd hoped for. It only served to confirm what Ronon had already known – that John Sheppard was more than just a soldier after all.

Sheppard had just collapsed onto his bed, fully clothed, when he heard a noise coming from somewhere in his quarters. At first, he tried to ignore it, figuring that his imagination, fueled by his lack of sleep, was in overdrive. But as it continued, the ever-present pit in his stomach told him that he should get up and investigate. Huffing out a weary and somewhat perturbed sigh, he pushed himself off the mattress and switched on his bedside light.

Everything looked normal – his car magazines still scattered across the table, his laundry basket overflowing, the walls and floor just the way he remembered – and yet there was an energy in the room, as if the room itself was alive, breathing, watching him. Sheppard walked into the small kitchen, grabbing his sidearm as he walked past the chair he'd laid it on earlier. He flipped on the light, performing a visual sweep for anything out of the ordinary. Convinced the room was clear, he continued to the bathroom, where the energy seemed to be growing stronger. He stopped outside the door, which was half-closed, and took a few breaths to calm himself. He wouldn't go so far as to say he was afraid of the dark, but the question of what or who could be there always gave him pause. _Too many horror movies_, he chided.

Sheppard swung open the door and in the same motion flicked on the light switch. The room was immediately bathed in bright blue-white light, as was the figure who stood just inside. Sheppard shook his head in disbelief, lowering his gun as he spoke to the person.

"Mom?"

His mother smiled sweetly back at him. "Hello, John."

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you, of course."

At that, he considered raising his gun again, but his arm wouldn't move. Instead, he shook his head again. "Came to see me? You're dead."

His mother's smile faded at his reaction. She took a step forward and reached out to touch him, but stopped just short. Instead, she said, "I missed you. You left so quickly, I never got to say goodbye."

Sheppard was confused. "I left? Mom, you're the one who left. You died, and left us behind!"

"I had to. But I knew your father would take care of you."

He scoffed at that. "Take care of us? Oh, sure, if you count leaving us with nannies while he went on business trips for weeks on end as 'taking care of us'."

Her lips formed a tight line. "John Sheppard, do not talk about your father that way."

He scowled, but didn't respond to her admonishment.

"He did the best he could," she continued. "And you both grew up fine."

Sheppard was growing ever more tired of this conversation. His mother wasn't really there; he knew that for a fact. Was he dreaming? No, he told himself. He was quite sure he was fully awake. So, then, what was going on here? Taking a step back, he leaned against the door frame and asked, "What do you want from me?"

"I told you, I…"

"Came to see me," he interrupted. "Yeah, I got that. What I'm trying to say is, you're not really my mother. She died when I was young. So, who are you, and what do you want?"

At that, his mother smiled again, but it was a sinister grin, like nothing he'd ever seen on her before. A small shudder of fear edged its way up his spine at the sight. She turned to look at herself in the mirror, and as she stared at her reflection, she replied, "I want your mind."

Sheppard gulped involuntarily, and leveled his sidearm at her. "You…what?"

"At first, the only way I could invade your mind was while you were asleep. But because of your…insomnia, I soon found that your mind and body were weakening, and you were more vulnerable even while awake. Very shortly, you will be too weak to resist me from taking control of your mind."

Though panic still gripped him, he forced his voice to remain even. "That's…interesting. But, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not go Amityville here."

The impostor shook her head sadly. "You won't have a choice, I'm afraid."

"How did you get here?"

"We have our ways. Certain systems in your city are quite easy to…infiltrate."

Sheppard blinked. "We? You mean there are more of you?" His mother nodded, almost gleefully, and he followed up with another, more specific question. "How many?"

"Twenty."

His stomach now churning full speed, Sheppard gazed around for his comm., and saw it on his beside table. Cursing himself for leaving it there, he turned back to look at his "mother", but she had gone. The bathroom was empty, and the energy he'd felt earlier had also dissipated. Slumping against the doorframe in relief, he slipped his gun into the waist of his pants and covered his face with one hand, allowing himself a quick moment to gather his wits. Then, he jogged over to his bed and grabbed the comm. device. He slipped it over his ear, and pressed the button to talk.

"Rodney? Rodney, wake up!"

Rodney's voice, annoyed by the interruption of his sleep, replied, "I'm awake, thank you. What the hell is it?"

"Are you still having problems with the ventilation system?"

The mention of his latest problem piqued Rodney's interest. "Yes," he replied slowly, his mind already wondering why someone like Sheppard would suddenly be interested in it. "Why?"

"I think I know what's causing the problem. I'll meet you in the lab in twenty."

"Twenty? Why twenty?" Rodney whined. He knew without a doubt it should only take the Colonel ten minutes to reach the lab from his quarters.

Sheppard rolled his eyes at his friend's tone. "I need to do something first. Just meet me in twenty."

"Fine," Rodney muttered, and Sheppard could tell that he'd cut off his radio.

Sheppard reached Teyla's room sooner than he'd anticipated, and entered her room without sounding the chime. He didn't want to wake Torren, after all.

Teyla was sleeping fitfully, tossing her head from side to side. He stepped over beside her, and lightly shook her shoulder to wake her.

He hadn't anticipated what happened next.

Teyla swung her fist at him, catching him square in the jaw and sending waves of pain all the way to his temple. Then, her blanketed feet tried to kick him, but by then he'd recovered, and had pinned her legs down with his knee.

"Teyla!" he shouted, still trying to evade her swinging fists. "Teyla, wake up. It's me!"

Finally, her eyes opened, and she was met by the sight of his face inches from hers, his left cheek slowly turning a bright red. Her confused mind tried to understand why it felt as if there was a heavy weight on her legs, why Sheppard was holding both of her wrists in his hands.

"John?" She asked, unsure if she was really awake.

"Hey," he replied, though he still didn't release her from his grasp. "Some dream you were having, there."

"Yes," she muttered, refusing to meet his gaze at first. When she peered into his eyes, she could see some sort of inward battle raging there. Not fully sure she liked where his thoughts were headed, she cleared her throat, and he shook his head, sufficiently brought back to reality.

Sheppard stood back up, opening his hands as he did so. She sat up in bed, gazing at him curiously before she finally noticed the red mark on his face.

"John! Did I…?"

When he nodded, she sucked in a breath. "I am sorry."

His signature smirk crept onto his lips. "No big deal. You hit like a girl." It wasn't true of course, and they both knew it, but it eased the tension between them and told her she was forgiven.

"I wanted to make sure you were all right," he continued, "and that there wasn't anyone hiding in your room."

She was openly puzzled. "In my room?"

"Yeah. Let's just say I had a little visit a few minutes ago, and I think I know what's been going on around here."

Teyla had slipped out from under her covers as he explained, and was already grabbing her regular clothes when the door chime sounded. She looked at him helplessly, and he smiled and said, "I'll get it. You go ahead and change."

When he saw the bathroom door shut tight, he slid open the door for Doctor Keller, and then stood aside for her to enter.

"Colonel," she acknowledged, and he nodded.

"Hey, Doc." His gaze took in her outfit: striped pajama pants and a college football t-shirt, paired with white sneakers. Her hair had been in a ponytail, he noticed, but most of it had come loose in her sleep, and she hadn't bothered to fix it. He didn't care; it was nearly four in the morning, and everyone was entitled to look like crap at that early hour. Even doctors.

He gestured around the room as he spoke. "The baby should stay asleep for another hour at least, so if you want, you can crash on the couch. There should be bottles in the fridge, and his diaper bag is on the floor next to the crib-thingy."

"Thank you, Colonel. I'll be fine."

Just then, Teyla emerged from the bathroom, her long hair braided neatly down her back.

"Ready?" He asked, and she nodded to him before flicking her eyes toward Jennifer.

"Thank you so much, Doctor Keller," she said, inclining her head to her.

Jennifer waved her hand. "It's no problem."

Sheppard shot her a look of gratitude as he ushered Teyla out the door into the hallway, and she almost laughed out loud. _Really,_ she said to herself, _as if watching a newborn was harder than performing surgery_. She'd been babysitting since she was 11 years old, and it came almost naturally to her now.

With a quiet sigh, she relaxed on the couch and pulled a book out of the bag she'd brought with her. Knowing she had quite a while before Torren woke up, she fully intended to use that time to catch up on her murder-mystery.

TBC...

* * *

_Notes: I've succeeded in shutting Sheppard up for a while, but I gotta be fast...many may wonder how Shep is able to figure out what's happening so soon...well, you may recall his MENSA scores?? Yep. He doesn't like to publicize it, but he's actually incredibly intelligent for a humble "flyboy". Not to mention, it's not like they haven't been in a similar situation before, so it's pretty simple to figure out, at least for him. Leave me some feedback, let me know what you think...._


	6. Mission: ShepWhump

HALF-LIVES

CHAPTER 6

* * *

The look of relief that crossed Rodney's face when his friends appeared in the lab would have been comical, had everyone not been in such a serious mood. Sheppard had called Ronon on the way, and since he was only down the hall on one of his runs, he met Sheppard and Teyla a few moments later.

"Oh, thank God," Rodney breathed, then added after Sheppard's puzzled look, "you said twenty minutes!"

Sheppard looked down at his watch, then shot Rodney a glare. "It's only been another five. What's your problem, McKay?"

McKay crossed his arms and stuck out his bottom lip. "My '_problem_', as you so succinctly put it, is that _you_ woke me up at the butt-crack of dawn, told me to meet you here, and – wonder of wonders! – _you're_ _late_!"

Sensing what was coming next, Teyla stepped between them then, and rested her hand on Rodney's arm. "Rodney," she soothed, "we are here now. Let us focus on that."

Rodney watched her eyes for a moment, unconsciously letting her calm bleed through into him. Then, he sighed and dropped his arms. "Fine. Yes, you're right."

When she backed away, Sheppard leaned down and murmured, "Thanks," into her ear, and she nodded imperceptively. She sat in a nearby chair, and Ronon rested his hands on the back of it, smiling down at her when she happened to glance up. She smiled back, glad to see that he was back to normal.

"So," Rodney said, clapping his hands and then rubbing them together. "You said you think you knew what was going on with the ventilation problem. Wanna fill us in?"

Sheppard nodded, and glanced down at Rodney's monitor. "The reason the computer is sensing that the vents are blocked, is because they are."

Rodney cocked his head at him. "But Zelenka and I checked them. They're all clear."

The Colonel nodded again. "And they are."

Now Rodney was completely confused. "But you just said…"

"Whatever is blocking them is not solid. They're some sort of energy."

Sheppard could see that he was beginning to confuse not only Rodney, but Teyla and Ronon as well. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "I think the dreams we've all been having, and the ventilation problem, are related. The loved ones in our dreams are actually these…beings…trying to wear us down, weaken us. And they use the vents to hide out or rest during the day."

"But, if this is true," Teyla said slowly, "then where did they come from? Did they follow us back from a planet we have recently visited?"

Sheppard shrugged. "Honestly? I'm not sure. Although, my dreams didn't start until I came back with Kanaan." As soon as the words left his mouth, he winced. He hadn't intended on mentioning the man's name. Teyla's face remained neutral despite it, however, and he rushed on. "All I know is, we've got to find a way to contain them, before one of us passes out and doesn't wake up."

"I say we kill 'em," Ronon suggested, his dark eyes serious.

"And how do you suggest we do that, Conan?" Rodney asked with a scowl. "We don't even know what they really are, much less how to get rid of them!"

"What do we do now?" Teyla asked them, and received nothing but blank stares in return. Ronon shrugged, his original idea having been shot down by the others.

An idea seemed to come to Sheppard, and he turned to stare at Rodney. "Can we block them in?"

"Block them in?" Rodney repeated, and Sheppard nodded. "Um, let me think…" he rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, a frown turning down the corners of his mouth. "You believe they're some sort of energy, correct?"

"Yeah."

"Then no. No, we can't. There's no way to contain them in the ventilation shafts, and even if there were, there's no telling how long it would take them to find a way out."

Sheppard blew out a breath. "Any time is better than none," he reminded his friend.

"Yes, well, right now, we're at 'none'." Then, a thought popped into his head, and he did a kind of excited little hop. "Unless…"

"McKay?" Sheppard prodded.

Rodney rushed over to another bank of computers, and pushed a few keys on a board in front of him. "Okay, we might have a chance to capture them, if we can lure them to this storage unit," he replied, pointing at a dot on the screen.

"What's so special about that one?" Ronon rumbled, coming to stand behind Sheppard's right shoulder. Sheppard could feel Teyla move to stand on his left.

Rodney stared at him for a moment, his mind not comprehending how Ronon couldn't see the solution as clearly as he could himself. Then, he shook his head, and explained, "This was Herrick's Pattern Storage Module. Remember?"

Ronon nodded. He clearly remembered Jamus trapping Teyla inside it. If the guy hadn't died from his injuries, Ronon would've shot his head off for that mess.

"Well, it was made to hold an enormous amount of energy patterns. Like a, a...super-capacitor for human energy. The sheathing is an extremely dense metal, and if we can lure them into it, they can get in…"

"But not out," Sheppard interjected, and Rodney nodded emphatically, as if to say, _'See, __he__ got it.'_

Some time later, after they had formulated a plan, they all stood there in the lab, each one lost in their own thoughts. That is, until Ronon sighed out loud and flopped into an empty chair.

"So, how exactly do we lure them?" He asked. "I mean, what do we use as bait?"

Sheppard shrugged, a grin that bordered on sheepish plastered across his face. "Me?"

Once again, blank stares met him. When they understood what he was saying, each of his friends reacted differently. Ronon scowled heavily, his heavy brows knitted, and Rodney shook his head, disbelieving that one man could stare death in the face so many times, yet be almost willing to do it again.

But it was Teyla's expression that crushed his heart, and almost changed his mind. Her eyes, shining with tears, were open wide, and her hands clenched at her sides, the fabric of her skirt caught in her fingers. Sadness tugged at the corners of her mouth, and when she opened it to speak, that lower lip began to tremble as it had a few days ago.

"John, no," she said, but he held up a hand to stop her from saying any more.

"Teyla, I have to. I think the one that's after me is the leader of the group. If it goes, the rest will follow."

"But, you promised Kanaan," she argued, her voice little more than a whisper.

As a tear spilled down her cheek, he took her by the shoulders, and peered straight into her eyes. Though there was a small smile on his face, his green eyes were solemn. "And I am keeping that promise by doing this. Please, Teyla."

She knew that he wasn't really asking permission; Sheppard usually did what he felt was right, no matter what anyone else said. But he was asking her to support his decision, to stop worrying about him, and despite the sickly hollow feeling inside her, she slowly nodded. If this was what he wanted, she would not stop him.

Sheppard used his thumb to flick away the tear that by now had tracked down to her chin, and then touched his forehead to hers. "I'll be okay."

She simply nodded, not trusting her voice, and he pulled away from her.

"Rodney," he said then, "how long?"

McKay checked the computer monitor, and replied, "Five minutes. You should just have enough time to get to the module."

"Good." Sheppard turned to Ronon. "No matter what happens, don't come after me."

Ronon breathed in deeply, clearly showing his displeasure, yet he nodded. "You got it."

Sheppard took a step forward and leaned in toward his large friend. "And make sure she doesn't, either." He nodded toward Teyla, who was looking over Rodney's shoulder at the computer.

"I'll try my best." Sheppard started to walk away, but Ronon grabbed his arm, and he turned back. "If you make it out of this, you're gonna tell her."

Sheppard sighed. "This again?" The Satedan stared daggers into his eyes at that, making Sheppard instantly nod. "All right. You win."

Ronon grinned and released his arm, and Sheppard quickly made his way out of the lab and down the hall.

_Toward the OK Corral_, he tried to joke with himself, but it fell short. This was no time for jokes. He'd had so little sleep in so long, these creatures just might be able to overpower him, and that would most definitely not end well. Teyla was right; he'd made a promise to care for her and Torren, and it would be hard to keep that promise if he was dead. But now, he had a chance to protect not only them, but everyone on Atlantis, and he had to take that chance. He wondered if Rodney's constant criticism of his was accurate – if he was so enamored by being a hero that he rushed into situations before a second thought. He hated having any extra attention focused on him, but he had to admit, the adrenaline rush he got in the middle of a fight was almost addictive.

As he reached the bottom of the staircase he'd been walking down, he had the same feeling as he'd had in his room earlier, and he knew they were nearby. He clicked on his radio, slowly bringing his gun level and peering through the sights. He could feel the hair on his arms rising, and though it was comfortably warm in the hallway, he suddenly shivered.

"Guys, I think I'm close."

"Okay," Rodney replied, watching the dot that indicated Sheppard's position on the small screen he held in his palm. "Now, try and get them to follow you."

"And how do you suggest I do that, Rodney?" Sheppard hissed into the mic. "Leave a trail of jellybeans?"

Ronon wasn't quite sure what jellybeans were, but from Sheppard's tone of voice, he knew that leaving a trail of them for the beings was not a good idea. He chuckled aloud until Rodney glared at him, and Ronon was forced to turn his head so the moody scientist wouldn't see his smile.

"Hey, this was _your_ idea, remember?" Rodney asked testily, ignoring the look Teyla was giving him at the moment – the one they jokingly called the "Mom Look".

"Calm down, McKay. I'll figure something out," Sheppard replied, reaching up to switch off the radio once more.

As he turned around to do his visual sweep, a fist suddenly crashing into his face caught him off guard, and he staggered back, his sight suddenly blurry. He shook his head to clear it, and was shocked to see who stepped into his view.

"Major Lorne?" He asked in disbelief. The Major didn't reply at first, only stood there staring at him.

Then, slowly, as if talking were somehow difficult, he replied, "Just give in, Sheppard. It's…not so bad."

Sheppard shook his head, letting his anger boil over inside him. "Whoever you are, leave my men alone!"

"But, I need him," Lorne replied, his face taking on the evil sneer Sheppard had seen on his mother's face. Sheppard could feel himself starting to shake, not with cold this time, but with rage. No one took control of his team – of his friends – without a fight. "Besides, he was too tired to put up much of a struggle," the creature within his friend and colleague replied, again reading his thoughts.

_Gotta stop that from happening_, Sheppard warned himself, letting his tired mind throw up a protective wall around itself. When it was in place, Sheppard cocked his head at Lorne and asked, "You wanna take over my mind, right?"

Lorne just nodded once, slowly, and Sheppard had to admit that it creeped him out more than any horror movie he'd ever seen.

"Okay, then," he said, "you can have it. But we have to do this in a more…" he glanced around the halls, for effect, "…private place."

Lorne eyed him for a moment, trying to discern if he was telling the truth. Then, he nodded. "Very well."

The two of them walked toward the room the stasis unit was left in, and though he couldn't see them, Sheppard could feel the other beings were close by; their energy bristled against his skin like sandpaper with every step. So far, the plan was working quite well, but he was careful not to celebrate yet. There was still one more step to this mission that hadn't been reached yet…how to get them into the storage unit.

"Well, Colonel?" Lorne drawled, the wicked sneer returning.

"Okay, how do we do this?" he asked, glancing down at the module in front of him. He'd noticed a small switch on the main panel, and was slowly reaching out to touch it. "Do I have to give you permission, or…"

The creature inside Lorne soon noticed him moving, and growled deep in his throat. Before Sheppard could freeze and try to distract him, Lorne swung both fists into the back of Sheppard's head, smiling when he heard it connect.

Sheppard fell against the machine, blackness beginning to edge into his field of vision. He fought against it, unwilling to go down so easily, and waited until Lorne had grabbed his shoulders to try and spin him around to lift his foot and swiftly kick the Major in the kneecap. He heard a sickening snap, but didn't stop now that he had the upper hand. Sheppard punched Lorne in the face twice, then three times, but the man still wouldn't go down. Though the Major was quite a bit shorter than Sheppard, he seemed to be twice as strong; Sheppard didn't know whether that was the alien influence or not, and really, he didn't much care either way.

Lorne grunted and fell to his knees, but was able to stand and get in a few punches to Sheppard's kidney before he could try for the switch a second time. Again, Sheppard's vision turned fuzzy, and his stomach lurched with every breath, but he managed to stay on his feet.

"Why don't you give up?" Lorne asked him, and as Sheppard turned to face him, he managed a grin of his own even as he wiped a trickle of blood from his nose.

"I'm stubborn." He pulled out his standard-issue knife and swiped it at Lorne's chest, but narrowly missed. Lorne easily flipped it out of his hand and plunged it into the top of Sheppard's thigh, causing an agonized scream to erupt from the Colonel, then dragged it down an inch before pulling it back out. Sheppard immediately gripped his leg, trying in vain to hold the wound closed, but his hands were soon too slippery to do any good. Blood was pouring down his leg, forming a pool at his feet, and the dizziness was becoming much worse.

"I see." Lorne took a step forward, noting the way that Sheppard's pupils refused to refocus. _That is good_, he thought; _he is slowly losing consciousness_. "That's really too bad."

"Yeah," Sheppard rasped, still trying to settle his roiling gut. He felt seasick, as if the entire room was tilting around him. "Well, it comes in handy, you know."

"For what?"

Sheppard winked his eye, and too late Lorne saw his hand slam down on the switch. The machine glowed blue, and a loud, purring noise came from within it. Sheppard could feel the energy around him being pulled toward the module, and he knew he didn't have long to escape it himself. The modifications Rodney had made on it gave him only ten seconds to get out. It wasn't enough time, he was sure of that. If – _no, __when_, he corrected; _think positive, John_ – the creature released Lorne, the Major would most likely be unconscious, meaning that he'd have to drag the man out of the room as well. Sheppard shook his head. His sight was still way off, and his entire body felt as if he'd been through an industrial metal press. The wound on his thigh burned, as if someone had stuck a cattle-brand into him.

Luckily for them both, as soon as the creature inside Lorne had been torn free of his body (which Lorne would later recount in painful detail), he was able to escape the room on his own accord. Nodding in approval as the man ran past him, Sheppard half-dragged himself through the doorway and waved over the controls, then pressed a few buttons, effectively locking the door.

"Rodney," he ground out, "blow the hatch."

At the sound of his voice in their ears, his friends all jumped up from their seats, glad to finally hear him again. Rodney made a few keystrokes, and then tapped his radio.

"Done. Are you okay?" he asked, and when he didn't get a reply, he turned toward Teyla and Ronon, a clear look of terror on his face. "Sheppard? John, are you there?"

Major Lorne spoke up then. "Rodney, get Dr. Keller. We've got a man down."

Teyla ran from the room at top speed, heading for Sheppard's location, while Ronon followed behind at a more reasonable pace. Rodney summoned Jennifer, then took up the rear, praying that Sheppard wasn't hurt too badly.

Sheppard awoke face down on the cool floor of the city, a few moments after he'd radioed Rodney. His head was pounding mercilessly, and he was too weak to even roll onto his back. A shadow fell over his shoulder then, and Major Lorne's voice reached him, though it sounded far away, muffled by the hammering in his brain.

"Colonel Sheppard, can you hear me?" Lorne asked, pressing his cool fingers against Sheppard's throat to feel for his pulse.

"Mmph," Sheppard groaned, wisely shutting his eyes against the lights in the hallway. He tried again to move, then gasped when his leg throbbed in protest. His pant-leg felt stiff and wet, and he found that he'd recently started shivering. _Must be in shock_, he told himself, glad that at least for the time being, his stomach had lost its desire to dump its contents. It still growled loudly, but the churning had since stopped.

"Don't move, Colonel," Lorne said, unzipping his jacket and pulling it off. He spread it over his superior's shuddering body, hoping it would at least cut the chill until Keller's medical team reached them.

Sheppard kept fading in and out of consciousness every few seconds. He heard Teyla's voice once, and though he struggled to speak to her, he couldn't get his mouth to work. He groaned instead, and she settled her hand against his forehead, wiping away the drops of sweat that stood out there.

"Shh, John," she murmured. "Save your strength."

Just then, Jennifer arrived, and assessed his wounds. When he was safely laid on the stretcher, she started ordering everyone around, including Ronon, who remained stoic as ever, even when he was forced to hold Sheppard's arm still so Jennifer could insert the IV.

"Major Lorne," Jennifer called to him, and he stepped smartly over to her.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I'm going to need to see you in the infirmary, too."

Lorne nodded. "I'll follow you down."

TBC...

* * *

_Notes: So, I know it kinda took a while to get to the Whumping...but I think it was kinda worth it. Shep doesn't go down easy very often, huh? The next few chapters may take a little while, as I get distracted sometimes from my stories to do other stuff. But I'm definitely gonna try...hope you enjoy!_


	7. Admission

HALF-LIVES

CHAPTER 7

* * *

Sheppard woke up again, finally able to keep his eyes open without feeling like his brain was about to explode. The headache was still there, and it was huge, yet manageable. He looked down at his leg, which was bandaged thickly, and had to think for a few moments before he remembered what had happened to it. _Lorne_; his best soldier had stabbed him in the thigh. He was going to have to chew him out for that one. As Sheppard lay there, wondering how much he was forgetting, or how much he just didn't know, he was alarmed to find that his sick stomach had returned, and he took a few breaths to try and calm it.

The person who'd been sitting beside him heard his change in breathing, and woke from the doze they'd been in.

Sheppard locked eyes with his visitor, and smiled weakly. "Hi."

Teyla smiled back, the bags under her eyes telling him that she'd probably hadn't left his side unless it was to care for her son.

"Hello, John," she replied warmly.

"I…" he began, just as another wave of nausea enveloped him. He leaned over the side of the bed and dry-heaved for what seemed like ages, before he was able to control it and catch his breath. He wasn't sure if he was glad that his gut was empty or not. He almost would've preferred that, for all his trouble, something had come up. Teyla had since gotten up from her chair, and rested her hand on his shoulder as he gagged and choked. When he lay back again, she shot him a sympathetic look.

"Doctor Keller figured the medications she gave you for your pain would not agree with your stomach, but she did not wish you to be in agony."

He nodded, wiping away the tears in his eyes. "Tell her thanks, will ya?"

Teyla smiled at his attempt at humor, as the subject of their conversation stepped through the curtain and smiled down at him.

"Thanks for what?" she asked, and he shrugged one shoulder.

"For taking my gut on a rollercoaster ride."

Jennifer's grin widened. At least his spirit was coming back. "Sorry, Colonel. But it was either that, or let you keep thrashing around while I tried to stitch your leg back up."

He glanced at Teyla, who nodded in agreement, then let out a sigh as Jennifer continued. "Anyway, with any luck – and if you behave – you should be out of here within a week. But then comes therapy for that leg of yours."

His eyebrow twitched at the look on her face, and he managed his boyish grin. "You been starin' at my legs, Doc?"

Playing along, she tapped him lightly on the shoulder and replied, "I've seen a whole lot more of you than just your legs, Sheppard."

"As have I," Teyla added, scooting her chair closer to his bed.

Amused, he settled against his pillows, folding his hands behind his head. "Any chance I could get you two to fight over me?"

The women exchanged glances, then looked back to him. "Sorry," Jennifer replied with a half-frown. "I've got someone else in mind."

"Ooh, it's like General Hospital in here," Sheppard quipped, gazing at her intently. "Care to gossip a little?"

Keller just laughed. "You should get some rest, Colonel."

Although his eyelids drooped, he shook his head. "I'll be fine."

"If you want, I can go get some of those sedatives you love so much." His stomach lurched at even the mention of pain meds, and she nodded, noting his reaction. "Okay, then. I'll be back in a few to check on you." She turned to Teyla. "Just a few more minutes, okay?"

"Of course, Doctor," she replied, tossing her bronze hair over her shoulder.

When Keller had gone, Sheppard reached out and placed his hand over hers. "Thank you," he murmured.

"For what?"

"Being here. You look horrible, by the way," he finished with a smirk.

She grinned at the jab, then replied, "You would do the same for me. And," she added with a lift of her eyebrow, "you do not look very well, either."

He turned serious, a shadow clouding his green eyes, and he squeezed her hand gently. "I kept my promise."

She nodded, clearly seeing the fatigue that furrowed his brow, and she leaned down close to him. "You did. Now, do as Doctor Keller has said, and rest."

He was about to reply, when the familiar seasick feeling suddenly returned. Teyla understood the look he gave her and untangled her hand from his, in case he should need to use it. When his expression told her the feeling had passed, she leaned down again, her hair gently tickling his face and neck, and pressed her soft lips to his stubbled cheek.

His eyes closed involuntarily, his nostrils breathing in her flowery scent, and he silently cursed his injuries. He should be playing with her and Torren, not laying here, feeling like a helpless waste of skin.

"Sleep well, John," she whispered, and though Sheppard reached for her, trying to draw her back to him, she deftly avoided his grasp. With a last smile to him, she turned and left the infirmary, and he could do nothing but lay back and try to sleep. He snorted. _As if_. He didn't even feel tired.

Despite his claims, however, his eyes began to burn, and he finally closed them, intending to only rest them for a few moments, not the solid two hours he actually slept.

* * *

Teyla and Ronon were sitting in the mess hall, feeding Torren and talking quietly.

"So," Ronon said before he took a bite of his green apple, "Have you seen Sheppard today?"

Teyla shook her head, a guilty look crossing her sun-bronzed face. "I have not had the chance, yet. Have you?"

Ronon shrugged. "Keller kicked me out yesterday, before I could take a step in. Something about Sheppard not being in any shape for visitors right then."

"Yes," Teyla muttered to him as she began to burp her son. "The pain medication is still not sitting well with his stomach. He tries to refuse it for as long as possible, but as soon as he begins to feel his injuries, he becomes desperate for relief."

Ronon's jaw clenched at her description of Sheppard's pain. It made him feel helpless to care for his friend, and that was a feeling Ronon could well do without. Before she could sense what he was thinking, however, he shrugged again.

"I'm gonna go see him in a while. You can come along, if you want."

She shook her head sadly. "I would love to, but there is no one to care for Torren…"

He held up a hand to stop her, and smiled. "So bring him." She seemed puzzled at this, and he explained, "I'm sure Sheppard would love to see the little guy. Might just cheer him up, give him some strength back."

Teyla considered it for a moment, before slowly nodding. Even if Sheppard was in no shape to see Torren – or TJ, as he affectionately called him – perhaps Doctor Keller could keep an eye on the baby for a few minutes as she visited him.

"All right," she said, "call me when you are ready to go."

"Yep," he replied, then leaned down to wrap his arm loosely around her shoulder in a hug, one that wouldn't squish the baby, before making his way across the mess hall in what seemed like five giant strides. He passed by Sam Carter on the way out, giving her a nod that she smilingly returned, and which stayed on her face until she reached Teyla's table.

"Can I join you two?" Sam asked her as she gazed down lovingly at Torren, and Teyla smiled and nodded. Sam slid into the chair Ronon had since vacated, and folded her hands on the table's cold surface. "In all the chaos, we never had a chance to debrief."

Teyla nodded hesitantly, trying to gauge Carter's mood, and was surprised when Carter leaned forward amicably and continued, "Under the circumstances, and to make our meetings more comfortable for everyone, I decided I'd just catch you all somewhere you felt at ease."

"That is kind of you, Colonel Carter," Teyla replied, her dark eyes focused on her superior. "I suppose you have been informed of our plan to trap the beings in Herrick's device?"

Carter nodded.

Teyla took a deep breath and went on. "Colonel Sheppard used himself as bait to lure them to it. Just before he reached the bay it was held in, he was surprised by Major Lorne, who had been taken over by one of the beings, and the Colonel was injured in the struggle. However, he managed to turn the device on, and they both escaped, sealing the door and blowing the hatch to send it into space. It was then that the Colonel collapsed from his injuries."

"I stopped by to see him earlier," Sam said, "and Major Lorne as well. He feels just horrible about what happened. I assured him that it wasn't his fault, but he doesn't seem ready to accept that."

Teyla nodded once. "It is hard to know that you have unintentionally injured someone, especially a friend and colleague."

"Oh, of course," Sam said, just as her radio clicked.

"Colonel Carter, please come to the control room."

Carter sighed and told Teyla, "It never ends."

Teyla merely smiled in understanding. A leader's job was never finished.

"I'm on my way," Sam replied, then switched off her radio. She stood up from her chair, stealing a moment to stroke the dark hair on Torren's head.

She turned again to Teyla. "If you see the Colonel today, tell him he's in my thoughts, and I hope he feels better."

"I will," Teyla replied.

When Carter had left the mess hall, Teyla peered down at her son, who was contentedly glancing up at the ceiling, his dark eyes wide and bright. She smiled at first, delighting in the fact that she was his mother. Then, she saw his resemblance to his father, and her smile faded. She missed Kanaan, and was more saddened by the fact that he would not see his son grow up. A part of her was angry at the circumstances of his death, that they weren't able to save him. And, if she was honest, she was still a little angry at Sheppard. She knew it wasn't his fault, but she still wondered if a part of him was glad that Kanaan was gone. He'd said that his distrust of Kanaan had ended when he'd helped them escape, but she knew Sheppard better than that. He was always vigilant about any danger to his team, and to Atlantis. In his eyes, anyone who had worked with the enemy – especially the Wraith – could never be fully trusted. She supposed that if she were not so close to the situation, she could see his point, but her relationship with Kanaan kept her from fully accepting it.

With a sigh, Teyla finally stood up, pushed the chair in with her hip, and left the mess hall with Torren cooing happily in her arms.

* * *

Teyla and Ronon both heard Sheppard's voice protesting from where they were, at the opposite end of the hall from the infirmary.

"I don't need a damned wheelchair! I'm not a cripple!"

Ronon shot Teyla an amused glance. Their friend finally seemed to be completely back to his normal self.

As they entered the infirmary, Sheppard sent them both a hopeful glance and said, "Will you please tell the _Doc _here that I can walk out of here just fine?"

Doctor Jennifer Keller was scowling at him, her eyes narrowed until they were little more than slits. "And will you remind the _Colonel_ here, that he has a deep, penetrating leg wound, and if he walks on it, he could rip the stitches?"

Ronon looked from the doctor to his friend, and then back again, before shrugging. "Whatever. I'm not getting into this."

Teyla also glanced at one, then the other, and frowned at Sheppard. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she said, "Perhaps there is another way, besides a…wheelchair?"

Jennifer thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "We could give him crutches. But the stairs are gonna be a problem."

Sheppard looked at her incredulously. "And how did you think I was gonna negotiate stairs in a _wheelchair_?!"

She just shrugged at him, frustrating him further. He'd been in the infirmary for a little over a week, and he was sick of staring at the walls. All he wanted was to get out of this all-too-familiar room, to climb into his bed and get some real, non-medication-induced sleep. So far, no one had been all too helpful with that, and it was beginning to really piss him off.

Sensing his anger, Teyla squeezed his arm in a silent warning, and turned to Jennifer. "He will take the crutches."

"Okay," Jennifer replied, then stepped away to retrieve the crutches.

When she had gone, Sheppard blew out a breath and slowly rubbed his hand through his hair, careful not to press too hard on his pounding head.

"Thanks, Teyla."

She shook her head slightly. "Do not thank me yet. If you misbehave, I will get Colonel Carter to order you into the wheelchair."

He looked over at her. "You wouldn't."

She simply cocked an eyebrow at him and replied, "Try me."

He considered it for a moment, then shook his head. "Never mind."

"Good choice, Sheppard," Ronon put in, a small smile on his lips.

"Okay," Keller said as she re-entered the main room with a pair of crutches in her hands. "I'm sure I don't have to explain how to use these to you, Colonel."

"Nope."

"Good. Then use them, _all_ the time."

He rolled his eyes. "Aww, come on. What if I just have to go to the…"

She jabbed her finger at his chest. "_All_ the time, or we default to the chair."

He pouted. "Fine."

Keller smiled. "Come back here in a few days and let me check the stitches, and we'll go from there."

Sheppard was about to say something else, but Teyla stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Thank you for everything, Doctor Keller," she said, giving Sheppard her "be quiet and behave" look, and he shrugged slightly.

Jennifer nodded. "It's my job. But you're welcome. Just make sure he behaves."

"We have already discussed it. He will be fine."

Jennifer moved off to care for another patient then, and Sheppard slid the crutches under his arms. He swung off the bed, testing their height. Satisfied, he started off toward the door, and Teyla and Ronon walked on either side of him.

"Would you like to go get something to eat?" Teyla asked him as they continued down the hall.

He shook his head. "My stomach's still not right after the Doc's drugs. I think I'm gonna just go to my room and get some sleep."

"Sounds good to me, too," Ronon agreed.

They walked with Sheppard to his quarters, and he was glad that it was so late at night; not many people were out in the halls, which meant that there was no one to see him like this. Broken ribs he could deal with, even a major concussion – but looking basically like a cripple was something he would never get used to. Showing any physical weakness was unacceptable in his eyes, and he supposed that was something his father had instilled in him, in addition to his feelings - _oh, irony, _Sheppard thought - on emotional weakness.

When they reached his door, he waved his hand over the controls, and limped inside. Ronon and Teyla followed him in, to make sure he got settled okay.

"Thanks for this, guys," Sheppard said as he plunked himself down on his bed, on top of the covers.

"No problem," Ronon shrugged, and Teyla smiled in agreement.

"We are glad to help," she said as she took the crutches from Sheppard and propped them against the nearby chair. "If you need anything, call us."

"You got it," he replied with a nod.

"Good night, man," Ronon said then, extending his fist, which Sheppard tapped with his own. He'd taught Ronon how to "fist-bump" a few days ago, when he'd been feeling extremely bored and claustrophobic inside his little curtain in the infirmary.

As Ronon straightened up to leave, he shot Sheppard a look, then inclined his head slightly toward Teyla. Sheppard nodded in return. Satisfied that Sheppard was now comfortable, Ronon nodded to Teyla and left the room.

"I bet he's just itching for me to get better so he can kick my ass in the gym again," Sheppard chuckled.

Teyla grinned. "As am I. But I am a bit more patient than Ronon. I can wait for as long as I must."

"Somehow, I don't think sparring with you two is what Keller would consider 'rehab'."

"I would say not."

His smile faded then, and he gestured for her to sit down. She lowered herself onto the edge of his tiny bed, so that she was facing him, and waited for him to speak.

"Listen, Teyla," he began, his green eyes searching her face, "I know you didn't want me to do what I did, but I had no choice."

"I understand," she replied, but he held up a hand.

"Wait. Don't say anything yet. I've been trying to figure out how to say this for a while now, and if you interrupt me, I'll forget."

She nodded, but kept silent.

"Look, I'm sorry about Kanaan. I really am. And I'm sorry that I went all 'Die Hard' out there a few weeks ago and busted myself up all to hell." Then, he corrected himself, "Well, actually, that was Lorne. But that's not the point. I just…I had to protect the city."

He took her hand in his, and she cocked her head at him, wondering where all this had suddenly come from. That wasn't to say she didn't enjoy it, though.

"I had to protect you. And Torren."

"Because you promised Kanaan?"

"No," he said quickly. "Well, yes. But not just because of that. The truth is, I…"

She waited for him to continue, and as his pause drew out, she wondered if he would continue at all.

Then, he reached up with his other hand, and touched her face, his fingers lightly trailing down her soft skin. "Teyla, I love you."

"John?" She asked, unsure if he was still under the effects of the medication he was on. She knew from experience that he sometimes went what he would call "loopy" when he was on certain pain medications.

His hand moved from her face then, to grip her shoulder lightly. She could feel him pulling her down toward him, and she surrendered to the gentle pressure on her arms. She leaned down until her face was less than two inches from his.

"I love you," he said again, and she saw in his eyes that he was completely lucid, and that he was telling the truth.

"I love you, too," she whispered, and gently pressed her lips against his. She felt his hands slide up into her hair, his fingers twining with the golden-brown strands, heard his breath catch in his throat as she kissed him.

Sheppard closed his eyes, letting his head fill with Teyla's intoxicating scent, not wanting to ever let her go. He pulled her even closer, so that she had to stretch out alongside him to be comfortable, and felt her hand slowly drift along his lower jaw, rubbing against the growing stubble there.

He smiled involuntarily, and when she pulled away, he rasped, "Tickles."

"I am sorry," she said, but he shook his head and kissed her mouth again to silence her.

"Don't be."

Teyla sat up on one elbow then, and stared down into his eyes. "I really should get back to Torren."

Sheppard nodded, even though his mind was screaming for him to stop her, to keep her there. _That wouldn't be fair_, he told himself. _She has a child who needs her more than I do_.

"Okay," he said, trying to hide his disappointment. She pushed herself up off his bed, then leaned down and ran her hand gently through his perpetually-messy hair.

"Get some rest."

He nodded. "I will. Scout's honor," he said, holding up two fingers.

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "I thought it was three fingers, John."

He grinned and shrugged. "Yeah, well…"

"Good night, John."

"Good night, Teyla."

As soon as the door had closed after her, he fell into a happy, dreamless sleep.

TBC...

* * *

_Notes: YAY! They finally admitted it! Seriously, though...I hope this chapter was good. Let me know (you know, the R&R thing again)...or just say HI. Not sure how many more chapters are gonna be in here...it depends on how many more dreams/ideas I get, I suppose, as well as how much Sheppard bugs me...LOL! Anyway, ENJOY!!_

_PS...Had to edit this chap. due to some continuity problems...just a tiny little thing no one would probably notice but me. LOL_


	8. It's Not Over

HALF-LIVES

CHAPTER 8

* * *

Ronon walked out onto the balcony off the mess hall with his loaded tray in one hand, to find Sheppard sitting alone. A forgotten coffee cup sat on the table, and his crutches leaned at an extreme angle against the railing, looking as if they were ready to fall. Ronon was glad to see that Sheppard had finally shaved the stubble from his face, though. The man looked ridiculous with a beard.

"Hey," Ronon called, bringing his friend out of whatever thoughts he'd been absorbed in. Sheppard looked over at Ronon and smiled.

"Hey, yourself."

"Did I disturb something?" The Satedan asked, and Sheppard shook his head.

"Just thinkin', that's all. So what's up?"

Ronon sat back, but not before snatching both a fork and the dish of sliced pineapples from his tray. "Nothing," he replied.

They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the salty ocean breeze that blew over them, softly ruffling their hair. Finally, Ronon's curiosity kicked in, and he asked, "So?"

Sheppard frowned. "So, what?"

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Ronon leaned forward, crossing his arms on the tabletop. "So, did you talk to Teyla?"

Sheppard nodded, clearly remembering the events of the night before.

"And?"

"We're good."

Ronon tossed the empty dish onto his tray, and let out another sigh. Sometimes talking to Sheppard was like trying to punch a Wraith unconscious. "So, she knows how you feel?"

"Yep," Sheppard replied, unable to keep the mischievous smile from his face.

His friend saw it, however, and raised an eyebrow in response.

"What really happened after I left?"

Now it was Sheppard's turn to lean back, and he crossed his arms. "Not much. I apologized for Kanaan, and for nearly getting myself killed, and…I might've told her how I felt about her."

Ronon eyed Sheppard suspiciously, trying to decide whether or not to make him go into further detail. He'd been waiting for a long time for either Teyla or Sheppard to make the first move, but when Kanaan came into the picture, Sheppard had wisely (or unwisely, the way Ronon saw it) backed off, and gave them some space.

"Sheppard," Ronon said then, "seriously."

Sheppard stared at him, willing him to quit this line of questioning, but then gave up when he saw that it was pointless. "Fine. If you must know, we may or may not have kissed."

Ronon's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"I said 'may or may not have'."

"Quit being an ass and answer the question." Though his tone was serious, there was grin on his face.

"What is this, an interrogation?" Sheppard asked, and Ronon just shrugged. "You're a tough one to get around. Fine, yes. Yes, we did."

"So how was it?"

"Ronon!"

"My last question, I swear," Ronon replied, laughing at Sheppard's obvious discomfort.

Sheppard smiled disingenuously. "You're lucky you're my friend, or I'd throw you over the balcony."

"Uh-huh. So?"

"It was…okay." Ronon shot him a look of disbelief, and he added, "It was great, okay? Are you happy? Geez!"

"What was great?"

Sheppard looked up to see Rodney McKay standing next to the table, carrying a tray of his own.

"Uh," Ronon stuttered.

Sheppard just shrugged and replied, "The chocolate pudding they sent to the infirmary yesterday. Seemed homemade, y'know, like made from scratch?"

"Oh," Rodney said, oblivious to Sheppard's deception. Then, he frowned darkly. "Why do they always have the good stuff when I can't get down here?"

"Because they all hate you, McKay," Ronon joked.

Rodney stared at him, wondering if that were indeed true. Then, he shrugged and glanced at Sheppard.

"How's your, uh, leg?"

Sheppard grimaced. "Ah, well, it feels like someone ripped it open with a can opener, and then tied it back together with barbed wire. The meds Keller's been giving me keep me constantly nauseous, and my kidneys still feel like they've been put in a vise. But I'll live. How're you doing?"

McKay suddenly looked a little sick himself, and he pushed his tray away from him. "Um, I'm okay. I've been working on a few minor glitches here and there in the city, but they're nothing serious."

"That's good."

"Yes. Yes, it is."

A long silence followed, as each of the men tried to figure out how to bring up the subject they knew should be discussed.

Finally, Sheppard looked over at Ronon and asked, "Anyone been having nightmares again?"

Ronon shook his head. "You?"

"No. But I still can't shake the feeling that this isn't over yet."

Rodney cocked his head. "What do you mean? We jettisoned the module into the ocean. With the intense pressure down there, it should take them years to get out, and even if they did…"

Sheppard glared at him, and he stopped talking.

"All I'm saying is," Sheppard continued, "my gut is telling me that we missed something."

"Yes, but what?" Rodney asked, ignoring the look Sheppard was giving him. Then, he realized what his friend meant. "Oh, you don't think one of them is still lurking around Atlantis? Oh, that is so 'Night of the Living Dead'!"

"What's that?" Ronon asked him.

"It's a horror movie, where people basically turn into zombies and walk around trying to kill normal people and eat them," Sheppard explained.

"Sounds weird."

Sheppard grinned.

"So what do we do?" Rodney asked then. "With the module gone, there's no way we can possibly trap it."

"I know that, Rodney. Let's just take it a day at a time here, okay?"

Rodney sighed, but didn't argue with him. He should've known there would be a problem; problems were all they seemed to have on Atlantis. _Why,_ he asked himself; _why couldn't we just all have a normal day?_ Feeling himself becoming stressed, he pulled his tray back toward him and started eating.

"Well, I'm off to the gym," Ronon said, pushing back in his chair and standing up. "You wanna come watch?"

"No," Rodney said quickly, around a mouthful of food.

Sheppard shook his head.

"Maybe later. It'll just make me more frustrated to be on these damn things –" he pointed to the crutches "than I already am."

"Okay," Ronon shrugged. "See ya later."

"So," Sheppard said to Rodney after Ronon had gone, "you never answered the question."

Rodney looked up in surprise, his fork in mid-air. "What question?"

A strange expression found its way to Sheppard's face. "If you've been having any nightmares lately."

"Oh. Uh, no. No, everything's fine."

"Rodney."

Rodney dropped his fork and rested his forearms on the table. "Fine. If you must know, I had one. Two nights ago."

Sheppard didn't speak, but the way he looked at Rodney forced the scientist to continue. "Atlantis was sinking, filling up with water. The shield had failed, everyone was drowning."

"The whales were there, weren't they?" Sheppard asked playfully, and Rodney was less than amused.

"Oh, ha ha. Fine, yes, they were. But look, just because I had a nightmare, doesn't mean the energy beings had anything to do with it."

"No, it doesn't. But we can't exclude them, either."

Rodney didn't reply. Sheppard had him on that, he had to admit.

"Let's just keep this between us for now," he heard Sheppard say then. His head snapped back up to stare at the Colonel. He opened his mouth to speak, but Sheppard's hand was already up to stop him. "There's no use in freaking everyone out until we're sure either way."

"Well, yes," Rodney agreed. "Good idea."

The familiar leaden feeling had returned to Sheppard's stomach, and he could only hope that this time, he was wrong.

* * *

Teyla stepped up to Sheppard's door and sounded the chime, but he didn't open the door.

"John," she called, just loud enough for him to hear without her shouting. Still nothing. Instantly nervous, she waved over the control and let herself in. He wasn't in his bed, as she'd expected, though the sheets were tangled and hanging askew, telling her that he had indeed been there.

Most of the lights in the room were off, making her see strange shadows that turned out to be various harmless items in his room, like his Johnny Cash poster and the pile of clothes he called his "hamper". As she went further into the room, she finally noticed his crutches lying on the kitchen floor, looking as if they were unceremoniously dumped into a pile and forgotten. In the moonlight filtering through the kitchen window, she saw that the bathroom door was closed, a sliver of light just making it out from under the door.

"John?" she called, but was met with silence, and her stomach heaved itself into her throat. She feared what could be beyond the closed door – if she would see him lying there in a pool of blood, a Wraith standing over him.

Slowly, she crept toward the door, listening for any sounds from within the bathroom. Finally, she could hear an all-too-familiar noise, and her stomach relaxed slightly. She swung open the door, to see Sheppard kneeling in front of the toilet, his head laying across the arm he'd draped over the edge of the bowl. His eyes were shut tight, his brow wrinkled in pain. He heaved a few times, but nothing came, and after he flushed the toilet, he relaxed against his arm again.

"John," Teyla called softly, knowing that even two weeks after his injury, his headache was most likely still present, and that he wouldn't appreciate any noise louder than a whisper. He didn't look up, but groaned to tell her he'd heard her. She stepped into the room and grabbed a damp washcloth, then knelt beside him and wiped his forehead.

"How long have you been in here?" She asked him.

He didn't reply, only moving his hand to indicate that he didn't know.

"Are you all right to move?"

This time, he slowly nodded, and moved to push himself up off the cold floor. His leg protested the motion, however, and he winced and sat back down, too tired to try again.

Catching his sigh of defeat, Teyla stood and then reached down, pulling with all her strength until she had him up on his feet. Slowly, they made their way back toward his bed.

"I'm gonna kill Keller," he finally managed, and Teyla smiled at his comment.

"Is it just the painkillers?" she asked.

He shook his head slowly, and let her help him back into bed. As she untangled his covers and pulled them up over him, he said, "Migraine."

"Will you be all right for a moment?" She asked him then, and he nodded. After eyeing him for a second to be sure, she stepped back into the kitchen to retrieve his crutches and set them against his bedside table, then leaned down to feel his forehead again.

"I'm fine," he insisted, hating himself for needing someone to mother him. He reached for the glass of water he'd put beside his bed earlier and took a few small sips. "I hate throwing up. Haven't done it since my buddies died in Afghanistan."

Teyla nodded sympathetically. "It is not a good experience."

Sheppard grimaced. "No kidding. Listen, sorry you had to see that."

"John, stop," she scolded lightly. "If I had not come, you would have slept there on that floor all night."

He watched her for a moment, and then said, "Probably. Anyway, thanks."

"It is alright."

Though he tried to hide it, she saw him shiver, and she stood up again and grabbed an extra blanket from the couch, tucking it around him. Then, she pulled a chair beside his bed, and sat in it, one hand lightly clasping his, and the other slowly stroking the hair at his forehead.

Sheppard closed his eyes, trying to will his head to stop pounding, but gave up after a while. When he opened his eyes again, he saw that she was still sitting there, though she was starting to drift off.

"Teyla," he murmured, and her head jerked back up to look at him. "I'll be okay, really. You should go get some sleep."

She gazed at him curiously, then nodded. "All right. If you need me…"

"I'll call you. Go on."

Teyla stood up, letting out a breath and stretching her arms over her head. Sheppard watched her, enjoying the slight peek he got of her tight abdominal muscles when her shirt lifted, then suddenly cursed his aching head and unsettled stomach for ruining what could've been a great night.

Teyla caught him admiring her, and shot him a look. "Sleep well, John."

He pulled the blankets up to his neck, tucking them under his chin, and let his eyes drift closed. The last thing he felt before he fell asleep was Teyla's kiss, soft and cool on his forehead.

* * *

"I quit, Ronon," Major Evan Lorne said as he stared up at the Satedan from the gym floor. He held up his hands in surrender, and after a moment, Ronon reached down and grabbed one of his hands, pulling him easily to his feet.

"You sure? I can go even easier on ya than that," Ronon said with a small chuckle.

Lorne shook his head. "I'm sure."

"Okay."

Lorne walked over to a bench, where he'd tossed his towel and water bottle, and grabbed both. As he dried the sweat from his forehead, he glanced at Ronon, who was putting away the bantos sticks.

"How's the Colonel doing? I heard he was let out of the infirmary a day or so ago."

Ronon shrugged. "He'll be okay. Keller says his leg is getting better."

Evan shook his head. "I just can't believe I did that to him."

Ronon caught the worried tone in Evan's voice, and walked over to him, placing his hand on Evan's shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault," he rumbled.

"Like hell it isn't," Evan spat. Then, he calmed down, and added, "Look, everyone's been saying that. 'It was an alien being that took control of you'. But the truth is, I should've been able to stop it. I could see myself doing it, but I couldn't do anything to stop. If I wasn't so tired…"

Ronon stared at him for a moment, then said, "If is a stupid word."

Evan looked at him, confused, and Ronon shrugged again.

"I'm just saying. You can wonder 'if' every day for the rest of your life, but it doesn't change anything."

"But I stabbed Colonel Sheppard…"

Ronon cut him off with a hard glare before he replied, "And Colonel Sheppard has done things, harmed people when he was under alien control."

Evan was caught there. Ronon was right, of course; many people on Atlantis had done the same kinds of things as he had.

"Have you spoken to Sheppard about it?" He heard Ronon ask.

He shook his head. "I've been too…nervous…about what he'd do to me."

Ronon laughed out loud. "Don't worry about it. If there's one thing I know about Sheppard, it's that he doesn't usually hold a grudge too long." Then, a mischievous smile found its way to his bearded face. "Besides, I'd say you have a one-leg advantage over him, anyway."

Evan couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. "I suppose you're right. Thanks."

"No problem." Ronon held out his hand, and Evan reached out to clasp his forearm. "Now, let's get outta here. I'm hungry."

Evan nodded. "Sounds great."

* * *

Sam Carter was in her office, trying to stay awake while staring at her computer screen, when Teyla knocked on the doorframe. Torren was in her arms, giving little whimpers every now and then, and squirming as much as a baby could.

"Teyla?" Carter said, beckoning for her to enter. Teyla walked into the room, gently bouncing Torren in her arms to calm him, and then stood in front of Carter's desk.

"Colonel Carter," Teyla began, "I was wondering if you had a moment."

Carter sat back in her chair, glad for the distraction, and nodded happily. "Sure. Anything wrong?"

Teyla shook her head, though she seemed uncertain. She hesitantly sat in the chair facing Sam, and said, "I have been having nightmares again. It could be nothing, but when I spoke to Dr. McKay, he said that he also has been having trouble sleeping."

"You think it has something to do with the beings that attacked you before?" Carter asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Again, Teyla seemed conflicted. Finally, she replied, "I am not sure. It may be just our minds, playing tricks on us. But then Rodney told me that Colonel Sheppard felt as if something was still…wrong."

Carter frowned. If they had missed something, it could spell disaster for the team, as well as Atlantis as a whole. A rogue alien wandering around the city, overtaking people at will, could do some serious damage. Especially if those people were military personnel.

With a sigh, Carter stared up at the ceiling for a moment before asking, "What do you suggest we do?"

Teyla shook her head. "I do not know, yet. I am supposed to speak with Rodney again in the morning. Maybe he can find a solution."

"Have you spoken to Colonel Sheppard about this?"

Teyla seemed to blush at the mention of the Colonel, and Carter raised her eyebrows at the reaction. She had always known that Teyla and Sheppard had feelings for each other, but so far, neither of them had acted on them. She was about to say something about it, when Torren squalled again, and Teyla stood up and paced around the room, figuring the motion would soothe him.

"I have not," Teyla admitted, "for many reasons. The Colonel's headache has not vanished yet, and Rodney's conversation with Colonel Sheppard was supposed to be kept between them. I fear that if I mention it…" she finished helplessly, and Sam nodded, understanding what she meant to say. Colonel Sheppard had more secrets about himself than he cared to admit, and wouldn't take kindly to anyone, especially Rodney, letting them be known to anyone else.

However, in this case, Sam figured that he might let it slide. She said as much to Teyla, who nodded slowly before saying, "Then perhaps it is best if all of us have a discussion."

"I agree. And you should also see if there's anything Dr. Keller can do for his migraines. Though he won't like that suggestion at all," Carter finished with a smile. Everyone knew about Sheppard's hatred for doctors and medicine in general; he wasn't secretive about that.

"He will not," Teyla agreed. She stole a glance at her son, who had finally settled down and fallen asleep, and smiled in relief. Then, she turned back to Sam. "Thank you, Colonel Carter."

"You're welcome, Teyla."

Teyla left Carter's office, and met Ronon as she was walking back to her room to lay Torren down, and possibly get some sleep herself.

"Hey," her large friend called to her, and jogged down the hall to catch up with her.

"Hello, Ronon," she replied softly, gesturing with her chin to show him that Torren was sleeping. He grinned in understanding, and fell into step beside her.

"Where're you coming from?"

"Colonel Carter's office."

Ronon eyed her suspiciously. "You in trouble or something?"

Teyla chuckled quietly. "No. I went to talk to her about my nightmares."

"They're back?" He asked, suddenly worried. Though Sheppard was the leader of their team, Ronon still felt as if he had to be protective of his friends. And now that Sheppard was injured, it seemed to be even more reason to feel that way.

"Yes. As I told Colonel Carter, it may all be a coincidence. But I wanted to let her know in case it was not." When Ronon fell suddenly silent, she cast a sideways glance at him, and asked, "Have yours returned, as well?"

"I'm not sure. I don't usually remember my dreams after I wake up. A few nights, I've woken up sweating though, so…" he finished with a shrug.

Teyla's eyebrow lifted, but she said nothing.

"How's Sheppard?" He asked then, and she felt her heart skip at his name. She forced herself to stay calm, however, and merely frowned a little. Ronon had seen her embarrassed expression, but drew no attention to it.

"His leg is healing, but his headaches are getting worse." Suddenly, a thought hit her, and she stopped in the middle of the hall. Ronon stopped also, and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.

"What is it?" He asked her.

"What if it is not simply a headache?"

Ronon looked down at her again, waiting for her to explain. When she didn't, he said, "You lost me."

Realizing she had spoken aloud, she glanced up at him, a mix fear and confusion in her dark eyes. Turning around to head the other way down the hall, she said, "We must go speak to Sheppard."

TBC...

* * *

_Notes: Oooh, a cliffhanger!! I usually don't leave them like this, but the muse (**you-know-who**) made me do it. LOL As you know, there was a little more ShepWhump in this chapter...why do I love harming my precious Shep so much? *Shrugs* I dunno...'cause it's fun, I guess. Anyway, enjoy, R&R and all that...another chapter may be up tomorrow or so...depends... _


	9. Apologies

HALF-LIVES

CHAPTER 9

* * *

At first, Sheppard thought the banging noise he heard when he first woke up was his headache. But then, he heard Ronon's voice calling his name, and he sat up carefully in his bed.

"I'm coming!" He shouted back, as he eased himself into a standing position and hopped on his good leg over to the door. He pressed the "unlock" button beside the door, and the moment it slid open, Teyla and Ronon burst through the open space.

"Whoa, guys," Sheppard said, hopping aside to prevent himself from being trampled. "Calm down!"

"Why was your door locked?" Ronon asked as he checked the room for anyone hiding inside.

Sheppard watched him, confused, and replied, "I didn't want anyone coming in. That's what a lock is for."

"So you are all right?" Teyla asked, and he nodded.

"Of course." Then, he stared into her eyes. "Teyla, what the hell is going on here?"

Satisfied that Sheppard's quarters were secure, Ronon came back over to them and leaned his arm against the wall. "Teyla thinks that your headaches aren't just headaches…or... something." He shrugged, still not understanding it himself.

"What?" Sheppard asked, rubbing his eyes with the fingers of one hand. "Teyla, care to explain?"

Suddenly feeling foolish for being so worried, Teyla took a deep breath and began. "I was telling Ronon that your headaches were becoming worse, when a thought came to me."

She glanced up at him, and he nodded for her to continue.

"What if there is still an alien presence here, and it is continuing to influence you, not through dreams, but by giving you a migraine? It would weaken you much more quickly."

Sheppard sighed and limped over to his bed, sinking down onto the edge. "The migraine is from the drugs Keller's been pumping into me for my leg." Then, he eyed her curiously. "And what makes you think that one of those energy beings is still here?"

She winced slightly, and explained, "Rodney and I were talking – "

"He told you?!" He interrupted her, and she nodded. "Oh, that just figures!"

"The point is," she continued, before he could become any angrier, "I think you may have been right. And I think it has become determined to seek justice against you for sending the others to the ocean floor."

Sheppard glanced from her to Ronon, who simply stood where he was, silent as usual. Then, he rubbed his hand through his hair and asked, "So now what?"

Teyla shot a worried glance over at Ronon before replying, "I think you should go see Dr. Keller, to rule out any alien influence."

Sheppard stared at her for a moment. "Teyla," he warned, "you know how I feel about being in the infirmary for more than five minutes."

She said nothing, but the look she gave told him she wouldn't take "no" for an answer.

"Fine," he finally conceded. "But if she comes anywhere near me with a needle, I'm gonna go homicidal."

He started for the door, alternating between hopping and limping, but Ronon stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"You might wanna take those," he said, pointing to the crutches Teyla had retrieved and now held out to him.

Sheppard rolled his eyes, but took them from her and situated them under his arms. "Y'know," he said as he swung out the door, "this really sucks."

Teyla and Ronon grinned at each other.

"Could be worse," Ronon said, still smiling. "You could be in the wheelchair."

* * *

"Hey, Doc," Ronon called as they entered the infirmary, "got a patient for you."

Jennifer Keller came out of her office and looked quizzically at the trio who stood before her. "Colonel Sheppard? You weren't due for a check-up on your leg for…"

"It's not my leg, Doc," Sheppard grumbled, adjusting himself on his crutches. "It's my head."

Still puzzled, Jennifer looked at Teyla, who explained the situation as briefly as she could.

"So, you want me to do some tests, and see if there's anything that could be causing the Colonel's migraine, right?" She asked, and Teyla nodded.

Jennifer sighed. She knew all too well how much Sheppard hated this particular room, as well as the various tests the SGA teams had to go through every time they came back from a mission. He would not be an easy patient, for sure.

"Okay," she finally said. "Why don't you get him situated on a bed, and I'll get some of my equipment."

"Take your time," Sheppard replied with a humorless grin, and she returned the smile before she left to gather her necessary tools.

When he was sitting as comfortably as possible on a freshly sheeted bed with his legs hanging off the end, Sheppard muttered something under his breath. Ronon had apparently heard what he said; his thick eyebrows raised at least an inch higher, and an amused smile played across his lips.

Aloud, Sheppard muttered, "This is probably an insane waste of time, you know."

Teyla crossed her arms over her chest and took a step forward. "You are being extremely childish about this, Colonel."

The frustration he was feeling started to move more towards anger, and he snapped at her. "And everyone else is treating me like a damn lab rat!"

She jumped slightly, and Ronon instinctively came to stand beside her. Realizing how he'd sounded, Sheppard took a breath and continued in a lower voice, "I have a headache, that's all. I'm sure in a few days, it'll go away, and everything will be fine."

"You have had a constant headache for nearly two weeks, and it has gotten only worse. There may be something very wrong."

"I've had a constant headache before, Teyla," he reminded her, but she shook her head.

"Not like this."

"And how would you know? I don't really go around publicizing my aches and pains."

"He's got a point," Ronon put in, then wisely fell silent when she glared at him.

She turned back to Sheppard and placed her hand over his. "If nothing else, do this for me. You did promise – "

Sheppard's temper boiled over, and he pulled his hand away from hers as if he'd touched a burning coal. "Don't you dare pull a guilt trip on me, Teyla! Yes, I promised to take care of you, and Torren, too. But you, of all people, should know that I can't even protect myself, much less anyone else!"

She started to speak, but he held up his hand, and she closed her mouth.

"Don't…do…it. Look, I agreed to get checked out for you, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

Jennifer had heard the argument, and though her heart pounded wildly in her chest at the anger in Sheppard's voice, she forced herself to walk calmly to the group and set down her instruments.

"I'm ready," she said, cursing the slight squeak in her voice when she spoke.

As soon as Jennifer had reached them, Teyla turned and rushed out of the infirmary, not stopping even when Sheppard called after her. Ronon glared at Sheppard, but said nothing.

"Look," Sheppard began, but Ronon just shrugged.

"You don't have to say anything to me. I hate it in here almost as much as you do. You were a little harsh on her, though."

"Could you please roll up your sleeve, Colonel?" Keller interjected, and he complied while still staring at Ronon.

"I know," Sheppard said, "and I'll apologize. But she can't hold that promise over my head every time something comes up. It isn't fair."

"Seems like you both have some intense expectations," Ronon muttered, moving aside to let Jennifer have better access to Sheppard's right side.

"What are you talking about? Hey, that's cold!" he yelped, as Jennifer placed her stethoscope against his chest under his shirt.

"Sorry," she replied, though she really wasn't. She was more than a little upset with him for losing his temper like that. Teyla just wanted to make sure he was okay; it was what friends did. Jennifer only wished more people were like that.

"All I'm saying," Ronon continued, "is that she expects you to be a part of her life, now that…well, you know…" he cast a sideways glance at Keller, hoping she wasn't paying too much attention, "and you expect her to just leave you alone, even when it's obvious that you need her."

"I don't want her to leave me alone," Sheppard said. "I just don't want her hovering over me all the time."

Ronon shook his head. "You've never been one for a serious relationship. I get that. But Teyla's just looking out for her son. Now that Kanaan is gone…"

Yeah, I get it," Sheppard said, interrupting him. "As soon as I'm done in here, I'll go find her."

Sheppard hardly complained as Jennifer performed the rest of her tests on him, and as soon as she said he could go, he grabbed his hated crutches and followed Ronon out of the infirmary, toward the crew quarters.

* * *

"What is it, Colonel Sheppard?" Teyla asked him as he stood outside her door. He noticed the coldness in her voice as she used his formal title, and it nearly took the air out of him. She was already in her sleeping clothes, and she glanced behind her in a silent warning to him that Torren was sleeping. When she turned back to him, he noticed that her eyes were slightly puffy and reddened from crying. It made him feel even worse than he already did, though he supposed he fully deserved to feel that way.

"I, uh," he stammered, then collected himself, "I came to apologize."

She stared silently at him for a moment. Then, she replied, "There is nothing to apologize for. You were right; I should not have brought up your promise to Kanaan."

He shrugged, still feeling awkward standing there. Finally, he said, "Look, Teyla, my leg is really killing me…"

She nodded once, obviously still angry at him, but moved to the side in an invitation for him to enter. He made his way into the room, and managed to get himself to the couch and sit down in only a few seconds. She waited until the door had slid closed before moving across the room and sitting at the other end of the couch. She folded her hands in her lap, and simply watched him, unsure of what else there was to say.

Sheppard was the first to speak again. "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. The fact is, I'm not used to this whole thing. I mean, ever since my ex-wife, I…"

Teyla held up a hand, and he fell silent, waiting for her to speak.

"If you really wish to have a relationship with me – "

"And I do," he interrupted.

" – then you cannot only say that you love me. You must also show me."

"I know. But you have to understand that things are gonna happen, and I can't protect you all the time."

"I understand, and I am sorry," she replied.

He edged closer to her and put his arm around her, pulling her to him. "I'm sorry, too."

She looked up into his eyes, and her own filled with tears. "I forgive you, John," she whispered.

"Good," he murmured, before lowering his head to gently brush his lips against hers. Though pain still bounced around in his skull, he ignored it and hugged her tighter to himself, deepening the kiss until they could hardly breathe. Teyla slid her hands up his back to his shoulders, her nails lightly digging into his shirt, and let his tongue explore her mouth, playfully twining with hers for a moment before pulling back.

Sheppard felt Teyla relaxing against him more every second, and he smiled against her mouth. He tangled his hands in her thick hair, delighting in the flowery scent of her skin, in the way her breathing became ragged. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to stay there, with the knowledge that she loved him more than anyone ever had in his life, and that he felt the same fierce love for her inside himself.

When they finally pulled away from each other, he gazed into her dark eyes before kissing her once more, quickly.

"I believe we just had our first fight," she said in a low voice, her eyebrow quirked at him.

"And our first make-up," he replied, smiling in his usual, boyish way.

"I don't suppose there are any Earth customs about romance that you would care to show me," she mused playfully. Sheppard's grin grew even wider, becoming almost wolfish.

"I can think of a few," he said, as he pulled her down on top of him and began to kiss her again.

* * *

Carter sat at the head of the conference table, watching the group of people around her. Ronon was slouched in his seat, as usual, his long legs crossed at the ankles. Though Carter couldn't really read his expression, he seemed calm enough, even a little bored. He had never been one for sitting around and planning anything – he much rather preferred action.

Colonel Sheppard had his chin resting on his arms, which were folded on the table. His eyes were open, looking around the room as Carter was, but his brow was still creased slightly in pain. Carter felt bad for him; it must be horrible having to be a team leader while having to deal with a major, unrelenting headache. Teyla was seated beside him, her hand gently rubbing his back in slow, soothing circles. Though her face was serious, her eyes were bright with happiness; _no doubt it has something do to with Sheppard_, Carter mused. She knew that look all too well.

Dr. Keller sat beside Ronon, a laptop situated on the table in front of her. She was reading something on the screen, and seemed to be in deep thought as she pressed a key to change the image before her. Carter noticed that every so often, Ronon glanced at Keller out of the corner of his eye, then quickly flicked them away to stare at something else. Carter smiled. She knew that look, too.

Rodney McKay finally hurried into the room and took the empty chair between Ronon and Sheppard, and placed his laptop on the table in front of him. When he looked up, he noticed everyone looking at him, and his eyes shifted around nervously.

"Um, sorry I'm late. I was going over some last-minute calculations, and I lost track of time. Then I had to go back to my room to get something, and…"

Carter interrupted him. "Rodney! It's okay. Let's just start."

"Oh. Okay, then."

Carter sighed, and turned to Keller. "Have Colonel Sheppard's results come back?"

Keller looked down at her screen and nodded. "Yes, about an hour ago. I found no enlarged blood vessels, no tumors – thankfully – and no blood clots. In a word, nothing. In my professional opinion, there are no internal symptoms to show that he's even having a migraine. if I didn't see the effects these headaches have been having on him, I wouldn't believe he had them at all." She looked at Carter, her expression almost apologetic. Then, she seemed to remember something, and added, "The nausea and vomiting the Colonel has been experiencing is most likely caused by either the headaches themselves, or by his sensitivity to the pain meds. Or both."

"So that rules out any medical reason for the migraines," Carter replied, suddenly feeling a headache of her own coming on. "But my question is, how exactly this creature is influencing him, without having taken control of his mind?"

Keller shrugged. "Maybe they don't need to be close to the person to do it. As long as a link has been established some way, it's all they need to continue wearing that person down."

"I still don't understand how one of the beings managed to escape the storage device," Sheppard said, slowly sitting up straight in his chair. "I felt all the energy around me being sucked into it, and once I shut the door, the…" he stopped to search for a word, "…prickly feeling was gone."

Carter shrugged. "Maybe one of them was far enough away from the device that it didn't get trapped in the energy stream." She looked at Rodney, who cocked his head to one side.

"It's possible, I suppose. Of course, it's just as probable that this…being, or whatever we're calling it, could've been in an entirely different part of the city."

Carter understood the implications of what he was saying, and continued the thought. "Which means, there may be more than just one still in the city."

Everyone let out a collective groan, before Rodney added, "And if that's true, then it's going to be near impossible to contain them. We don't have anything near strong enough. We also don't have any way of tracking them."

It was silent in the room for a moment, as everyone fully grasped the situation. Then, Keller sat up in her seat and quietly asked, "What about an EMF detector?"

Rodney narrowed his eyes at her. "What?"

Ronon, also unfamiliar with the term, mimicked Rodney. "Yeah, what?"

"Yeah, you know, like in those silly ghost shows they have on TV? They search for 'spirits' by using an EMF detector." Rodney did his best fish impression, trying to figure out where to start picking her idea apart, but she rushed on before he could speak. "If these beings are really made of energy, then we should be able to pick them up on one."

Rodney turned to Carter, an incredulous look on his face, and she grinned widely at him. She delighted in the fact that he was so flustered that for once, he couldn't speak.

"Okay," Sheppard interjected then, "let's say this idea is valid – and right now, it's all we've got. Do we even have one of these detectors?"

Keller nodded enthusiastically, glad that she had someone on her side, especially the Colonel. "We should, somewhere. Electricians use them for detecting hidden wires, or to test how much energy a certain item is putting out."

"Uh, one problem, Dr. Keller," Rodney finally managed, holding up a finger. "We don't have 'electricians' on Atlantis. The closest we have are 'technicians'. Nothing in the city even resembles the wiring we have on Earth, anyway, so there's no use for EMF detectors. Besides, anything even remotely related to such a device is the actual computer system itself. The computers run all the diagnostics for the entire city."

Keller leaned back, defeated, and just shrugged. "It was just an idea."

Seeing her disappointment, Teyla leaned forward and locked eyes with her across the table. "It was a good idea."

"Thanks," Keller replied, somewhat reassured.

"Wait a minute," Sheppard said, also leaning back, though his movement was more for comfort for his head, "the computers run all the diagnostics."

"I just said that!" McKay exclaimed, his expression showing that he wondered if Sheppard actually did suffer some sort of brain damage somewhere along the way.

Sheppard ignored him, and continued with his current line of thought. "So couldn't we configure the computers to sense a different energy output than Atlantis does naturally? You know, like a giant, city-wide EMF detector?"

All eyes turned to McKay, who thought intensely about his suggestion. Carter could almost see the wheels of his mind turning, and she was almost excited to hear his answer. He seemed to count off something on his fingers, touching his thumb to each one as his lips moved silently. Then, he frowned thoughtfully, and everyone held their breath, waiting.

Well, everyone but Ronon. He was becoming ever more bored with this meeting. He'd much rather be in the gym, sparring, while everyone else worked out the "technical" details. Then, when they had a plan, he'd go in and complete the mission, then go down to the mess hall and grab some food. Maybe drink a beer with Sheppard. That was what he called a good day. He nearly sighed aloud just thinking about it.

Finally, Rodney replied, "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Carter asked, becoming insanely frustrated with McKay. Although, she had to admit that it didn't usually take this long for her to get fed up with him; _a few minutes with McKay could drive even the most level person mad_, she thought to herself. She didn't know how any of the team – especially Sheppard – could deal with him on a daily basis. She supposed, once she thought about it, that it had something to do with the fact that he'd saved all of their asses more than a few times. It was a fact none of them really liked to admit, but a fact nonetheless.

Rodney looked almost hurt. "I say 'maybe', because it would take more than a few modifications to the sensors to do what Colonel Sheppard is suggesting. I'd have to reroute a few systems, like main power," he pointed up at the lights to emphasize, "and most of all, it's going to take some time."

Carter sighed and steepled her hands in front of her, resting her forehead against them. "How much time?" She asked him, and he rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling, no doubt performing a few calculations in his head.

"Hours. Maybe even days," he muttered, knowing he had a lot of work ahead of him and not all that eager for it.

"Rodney," Sheppard warned him.

McKay leaned back, running both hands through his short hair. _Sometimes it was hard trying to explain even the most simple scientific principles to "normal" people_, he thought. "Look, I told you, there's a lot of 'stuff' to do to get this working. If it even works at all."

"Colonel Sheppard might not have that long," Teyla said then, glancing at Carter, worry etched into her face. "If this creature continues to attack him…"

Carter nodded, knowing where Teyla's thoughts were headed. She had been thinking the same things for quite a while. She also knew, however, that so far this was their best hope for dealing with these entities.

"Okay," she finally said to McKay, whose eyes widened as if he'd been prepared for rejection. "Get it done as fast as you can."

"Yes. Yes, yes. Going," he replied, grabbing his laptop and hurrying from the room, with the rest of the team following closely behind him.

TBC....

* * *

_Notes: Oooh, things aren't looking good for the team, especially Sheppard! By the way, everyone can draw their conclusions about what happened between Sheppard and Teyla...I'm not one for graphic love scenes, so I figured I'd leave it to the imagination...better that way, in my mind. Um...anyway...a little note about the sick-Shep scene from last chapter...I've since learned through various sources that the sewer systems/toilets, etc. might not be the same as on Earth, but it's my story, my little corner of imagination, so whatever. It doesn't really matter, but I just thought I'd point that out in case someone else brought it up. _

_And in case you're wondering why Sheppy hasn't been interrupting lately...I've locked him in my basement...don't worry, he's pretty comfortable down there! _

_And thanks for all the awesome reviews!! It makes me glad to know that my stories entertain someone other than myself. Keep 'em comin!! _


	10. A Simple Plan

HALF-LIVES

CHAPTER 10

* * *

Sheppard sat at his favorite spot on the mess hall balcony, glad that the light in the sky had all but faded, giving him a much needed break from squinting to keep the bright sun from amplifying the pain in his head. It still pounded like a thousand fists against his skull, begging to be let out, but at least the nausea had abated, leaving his stomach growling for food. He glanced down at the slice of pound cake in front of him, debating whether or not he should try to eat it, and then sighed and pushed it away. He hadn't eaten in so long that he'd pretty much lost the desire to do so. Nothing looked appetizing anymore.

Not even the mountainous slice of chocolate cake Ronon plunked down on the table, causing Sheppard's silverware to clatter with the force.

"Hey," Ronon greeted in his usual way as he swung a leg over the seat of his chair, then sat down.

"Hey," Sheppard replied. Sheppard sat in silence, watching Ronon as he dug his fork into the cake, pulled off a huge chunk, and shoveled it into his mouth, then repeated the motion until the entire slice was gone.

"Your stomach still screwed up?" Ronon asked then, and Sheppard looked up, confused.

"What?"

Ronon nodded toward the pound cake. "You haven't touched that yet."

Sheppard shrugged. "My stomach's fine. I'm just not hungry, I guess."

Ronon sighed and sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Sheppard, you may not have as healthy an appetite as me…"

"No one does," Sheppard interjected playfully, and Ronon had to grin.

"…But you usually eat at least once a day." His eyes bored into Sheppard's. "Day's over."

"Ronon…" Sheppard began, but fell silent when he got an even harder glance from his friend.

"If you don't eat that cake, I'll get Keller to knock you out and stick a feeding tube in you," Ronon threatened.

Sheppard cocked an eyebrow at him, in a silent challenge, but said, "Fine. I can't promise that my body will cooperate, though."

Ronon shrugged, indifferent. "Whatever. But at least you can say you tried."

Sheppard grimaced at him. "Comforting. Thanks." As he pulled his plate back toward him, he decided to change the topic. "Rodney making any progress?"

Ronon frowned then. "Not really. But you know how he is. Everything's gotta be perfect."

"Yep," Sheppard replied before he took a tentative bite of his cake. It was sweet, but not overwhelmingly so, and the tart strawberries and cloud-like whipped cream on top made a nice contrast in his mouth. He decided then that he was glad Ronon had convinced him to eat it, and took a larger second bite.

"Carter can't be happy it's taking so long," he said after he swallowed, and Ronon nodded.

"She comes into the lab every few hours to check on him. She's only trying to motivate him, but he doesn't seem to appreciate it."

"I can imagine."

Ronon grinned as he said, "When she left the last time, he muttered something like 'ungrateful harpy' under his breath."

Sheppard laughed out loud, but was immediately sorry for it when his head protested, upping the pain a few notches. When it had subsided again, he mimicked Ronon's posture, leaning back in his chair.

"That's Rodney, all right."

Ronon nodded. "So, what're you up to, after you're done eating?"

Sheppard grinned at Ronon's obvious attempt at badgering him to eat, but let it slide without comment. Ronon was only looking out for him, as Sheppard would for his team. He merely shrugged in response, and took another large bite, hoping to satisfy his friend.

"I was thinkin' about bugging Rodney a little myself."

"Hm. Something tells me he won't like that much, either."

Sheppard's grin widened. "Probably not."

Ronon didn't reply. He simply sat there in his chair, watching intently as Sheppard finished his cake. When the last bite was gone, Sheppard held up his fork, licked the last of the whipped cream off the tines, and dropped it with a clatter onto the empty plate.

"Happy?" He asked Ronon, who nodded.

"Yep."

"Good. Can I leave the table now, Mom?"

"Watch it, Sheppard," Ronon growled, though he was smiling, and Sheppard returned the grin. "Let's get outta here."

"Good idea," Sheppard agreed.

Ronon and Sheppard both stood at the same time, and Ronon waited patiently for Sheppard to retrieve his crutches from under the next table, where he'd hidden them, and then nearly shove them under his arms. Ronon understood how he felt; having to rely on something – or someone, for that matter – to help you get around was bad enough, but when you were a soldier…well, it made it ten times worse.

Sheppard noticed the look Ronon was giving him, and frowned deeply. "I'm sick to death of these damn things."

"I got that."

With that, Sheppard nodded that he was ready, and Ronon led the way out of the mess hall.

* * *

When Teyla walked into Rodney's lab and caught sight of her three teammates, she nearly laughed out loud. The men were all huddled around a single computer, so close that their heads almost touched one another, and were deep in concentration as they stared at something on the screen. Every once in a while, Sheppard adjusted himself on his crutches, and Ronon could be heard rumbling some quiet comment.

No one noticed as Teyla took another step forward, so she cleared her throat softly, and the three men simultaneously raised their heads to glance in her direction.

"What is going on?" She asked, but they had already gone back to staring down at the computer. Suddenly feeling left out, she walked over to the group and shouldered her way between Ronon and Rodney.

"Rodney?"

Finally, he seemed to hear her, and replied, "Um, I think our 'EMF detector' is about ready. I'm just checking over a few things to be sure, but as long as they're fine, we're good to go."

"We will be able to see the energy signature of the being?"

"Or _beings_," Rodney corrected. "Yes."

"But what will we do once we find it, or them?"

"Details, Teyla," he said, waving away her concern with his hand. "Okay, just one more…" he waited until a beep sounded from the computer, and then said, "Ready!"

Sheppard grimaced slightly as he shifted again. He had no idea how long he'd been standing there, but his leg was beginning to ache as much as his head. "So turn it on."

"Yeah, McKay," Ronon agreed, and Rodney nodded.

"Fine, fine." He pressed a key, and waited again. A grid came up, and he grinned proudly. "It's working."

"Okay," Sheppard nodded. "You're sure you've excluded any known energy signatures already on Atlantis, right?"

"Do I look like a first-year grad student?" Rodney grouched. "Of course I'm sure. Why?"

"'Cause that's a lot more energy readings than we anticipated," Sheppard replied, his chin jutting out toward the computer screen. Confused, Rodney turned around to look, and the bottom of his stomach dropped out. A large cluster of dots blinked on the screen, indicating at least thirty separate energy sources within the city. And, to make matters worse, they were moving.

"Oh. No, no, no. How is that even possible?" Rodney whined, tapping a few more keys.

"There were only twenty here," Sheppard mused. "And we got rid of most of them."

"Maybe they managed to escape the module after all," Teyla said, but Rodney shook his head.

"Impossible. The force of the water, combined with the super-dense metal of the unit, would never allow them to escape. Or at least, not for years."

"Reinforcements?" Ronon offered then.

Teyla frowned deeply. "But how?"

"Doesn't matter. What _does_ matter is they're here now," Sheppard told her before he switched on his radio. "Colonel Carter?"

Carter's voice replied almost instantly. "Colonel Sheppard?"

"We've got a problem. You might wanna get down to the lab."

* * *

Carter strode into the lab, and the defeated looks on the team's faces took the air out of her.

"What's the problem?" She asked, and at first, everyone just glanced at each other. Finally, Rodney took a deep breath and stepped away from the computer.

"We managed to get Sheppard's 'city-wide EMF detector working."

"Okay," she said, still waiting to hear what the problem was.

"There are at least thirty energy beings in the city," Sheppard explained, and Rodney nodded wearily.

"How is that possible?" Carter asked.

Rodney sighed. "We don't know. All we do know is, they're here, and they're moving."

"Any idea where they're headed?"

"It looks like the majority of them are making their way toward the crew quarters."

Carter frowned. "If they take control of the military crew…"

"I know," Rodney cut in. "It means they can have access to weapons. Guns, stunners, the whole kit-and-caboodle."

"What about the others?"

It was Rodney's turn to frown. "That, I'm not too sure of. They seem to be heading this way, but for some reason, they're taking their sweet time."

Sheppard had been listening to the exchange between them for a while, until the pounding in his head demanded his attention, and he suddenly felt extremely hot in his jacket. He'd been feeling fairly warm for a while now, but until now, he'd been successfully ignoring it as he tried to help Rodney work on the detector.

Sheppard closed his eyes, hoping the lack of light filtering into his eyes would calm his migraine, but it didn't help. Instead, the pain began to grow, seeming to envelop his entire head and squeeze it, as if he'd stuck it into a two-ton vise. He concentrated on breathing deeply, knowing that the extra oxygen usually helped, and for a moment, it worked. Still not trusting it enough to open his eyes, he continued to inhale one huge lungful after another, slowly feeling the intensity of his migraine slipping away. But as soon as he returned to breathing normally, the pain crowded back into him, and he had to struggle to keep himself standing upright. As if in response to his resolve, his head pounded even harder, and he couldn't keep a strangled cry from escaping him. He clutched at his head, forgetting his injured leg, and would've crashed to the ground if someone hadn't grabbed the front of his shirt just then. A moment later, he felt himself slip into unconsciousness, and he was glad for it.

Ronon had seen Sheppard swaying on his feet, his eyes shut tight, and had tentatively moved toward him, knowing something was wrong with the Colonel but not wanting to draw attention to it quite yet. As soon as Sheppard had cried out, however, his feeling was confirmed, and he grabbed Sheppard before he fell.

"Oh my God," Rodney whimpered as he watched Sheppard sink limply into Ronon's arms. "We're all gonna die."

"Rodney," Teyla scolded, and he fell silent, though the worried expression he wore only deepened.

"Infirmary," Carter said, though Ronon was already on his way out the door in that precise direction.

"I'll be right there," Rodney said, starting to grab a few things on the desk in front of him, but Carter stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"No, Rodney. I need you to stay here and figure out how to get rid of these bastards."

He stared at her, a dozen different emotions flickering across his face. "But, Colonel Sheppard…"

She grinned sympathetically at him. She knew all too well what it felt like to have to stay behind when a member of your team was injured or lost, how everyone expected you to get lost in your work and keep from worrying about them. It never worked; no matter how busy she got, her worst thoughts and fears were always there, threatening to drown her. She imagined it was the same for Rodney.

"I know. But the best way to help him is by finding a way to trap them. For good."

His staring turned into an angry glare, and she feared that he would start an argument. To her relief, he finally sighed and dropped his gaze to the floor at his feet.

"Fine. You'll keep me updated, though, right?"

Carter nodded. "Of course."

When she had gone, Rodney pulled a chair over from nearby and sank down into it, then began working on a solution to their latest problem.

* * *

"What happened?" Keller asked as Ronon jogged into the infirmary, carrying a very unconscious Colonel Sheppard. He was followed closely by Colonel Carter, and Teyla, who looked as if she were about to either cry or scream.

"Collapsed," Ronon said, figuring that was all the explanation she needed.

He was correct. Wordlessly, she turned and pointed to the nearest unoccupied bed, and ran to get a few pieces of equipment. Ronon carefully placed Sheppard on the bed, and then stood by Colonel Carter with his arms crossed as Keller rushed to Sheppard's bedside. Sheppard's face was slowly turning red, as if he couldn't get enough air, and it made Ronon angry enough to want to punch something.

As Jennifer checked his vitals, she said, "His pulse and breathing are both much more rapid than I'd like, and I think he may be running a fever." She took his temperature quickly, and nodded to the nurse who had appeared on the other side of the bed. Her fear had been confirmed. "We need to get him cooled down right now."

"Doctor Keller?" Teyla squeaked, the fear in her eyes increased twofold.

Jennifer turned toward her for a moment, even as she began to remove Sheppard's jacket. "He's running a temp of 104.8, and it's rising. If we don't try to regulate his body temperature…"

Understanding what she was trying to say, Teyla nodded and started to pull off his shoes, while Keller cut his shirt open. The nurse, Marie, soon reappeared, and began placing damp, cool towels on his upper body. Though they were only barely cool, as the towels contacted his skin, Sheppard jerked as if they caused him pain. He began to gasp in huge breaths, one right after another, and Jennifer was suddenly reminded of the time she had nearly drowned in the lake by her house. Whenever she'd tried to draw a breath under the water, she'd instantly felt the need to draw another.

Sheppard's face and body continued to redden, and then, at a moment's notice, he just stopped breathing. From her place beside Ronon, Teyla had noticed, and now she uttered a pained gasp. Ronon gently wrapped his huge arm around her shoulders, his expression mirroring hers as he glanced at Carter.

"We need to intubate him," Jennifer said as Sheppard's lips began to take on a pale blue color. She watched Marie run off to get the necessary equipment, and turned back to wipe his burning forehead with a cool cloth.

"Hang in there, Colonel," she murmured softly, then, as Marie handed her tubes and other assorted tools, she put aside her gentleness and began to work on saving one of the most important people in the city, if not the entire Pegasus Galaxy.

* * *

Sheppard was cold and hot at the same time, and he wondered to himself if that was even possible. All he could see around him was blackness, and no sounds reached his ears. He pondered whether he was dead, and decided that if this is what it was like, then he didn't mind it much. His migraine was gone, his stomach wasn't upset; this might actually work out fairly well, after all.

Sheppard let his mind wander back, and discovered that the last thing he remembered was being in Rodney's lab. He wished there were some way he could at least find out whether they'd dealt with the energy beings or not, but to be honest, he wasn't in all that much of a rush.

"Sheppard," a voice suddenly whispered inside his head, and he frowned. _Is that possible if you're only in your head?_ he asked himself.

"Yeah. Who's this?"

"I have no name," the voice replied.

Sheppard almost felt bad. "Well," he drawled. "We'll have to fix that. How about Ben?"

"Ben?"

"Yeah, you know, like 'been' in my head. Ben." He chuckled at his own joke.

"Very well, though it really does not matter," 'Ben' replied.

"So, what do you want? Oh, right," Sheppard said, answering for the creature, "you want my mind. And, ultimately, you want control of my body."

"Yes," Ben hissed.

"The part I can't seem to work out is, why? What do you hope to get out of this?"

Ben didn't reply, and if he hadn't felt Ben probing for something inside his mind, Sheppard would've thought that he'd gone. But then, in a voice only slightly above a whisper, he said, "I think you know."

Indeed, Sheppard had an idea, and he hadn't liked it the instant it had come to him. Bristling with anger, he growled, "You want Atlantis."

"Yes."

* * *

Ronon sat at Sheppard's bedside, watching his friend hang onto life. He'd managed to tune out the incessant beeping of the heart monitor beside the bed, but he couldn't block out the sight of Sheppard lying there covered in sweat, his body finally still, instead of heaving with each gasp. Ronon wasn't sure he liked this much better. Jennifer had told him to talk to Sheppard, but he wasn't sure there was anything to say that hadn't already been said. He'd already opened his mouth to speak a few times, but each time, he decided against it.

Now, as he shifted to a more comfortable position, all he could do was watch.

And pray.

* * *

Sheppard stayed silent, the consequences of the beings' takeover reeling through him like a movie suddenly put into fast-forward. Anyone who resisted would be killed, including those on his own team. Even though he was most likely already dead himself, he couldn't stand that thought.

"You are not dead, Sheppard," Ben said then, "not yet, anyway."

Sheppard hadn't missed the gleeful tone in Ben's voice, but he forced himself to stay calm. He needed more answers, and right now, this seemed like the only way he was going to get them.

"Well, that's good to know," he quipped. "So, what exactly do you want with my city?"

Again, a full minute's silence surrounded him before Ben spoke again. "We wish to use its weapons against our enemies."

"And who would they be?" Sheppard asked.

"It is none of your concern," Ben spat, and Sheppard decided to drop the subject for while.

"Sure. So, where are you from?"

"We are from the same world Atlantis is located upon."

"Oh," Sheppard grinned (_again, weird_, he thought to himself), "we're neighbors, then! Why didn't you say so before? We would've invited you to the barbecues."

The feeling that Ben was searching for something hit him again, and this time he realized that Ben was slowly trying to find a way to take over his mind. _Well, let him try. It doesn't look like I'm going anywhere soon, and there's no way in hell I'm letting him in._

Ben must've understood his thoughts, because the pressure began to build up again. Ben's energy beat relentlessly against him, but Sheppard knew he had to hold out. If this thing gained control of him, his team would be in immediate danger. He could only hope that Rodney was working on some way to help him.

With one last burst of energy, Ben tried to force his way into Sheppard, and Sheppard only just managed to defend himself.

* * *

Ronon saw Sheppard jerk violently in his bed, and just managed to bring the IV cart closer before the Colonel ripped the line out of his hand.

"Keller!"

Jennifer ran over to the bed, instantly seeing why Ronon had summoned her. She checked Sheppard's temperature again, and shot Ronon a worried look. "It's going up again."

"Can't you give him something?" Ronon asked, standing up and pushing his chair out of her way. She shook her head.

"We can try the towels again, but that's about it."

He growled, obviously disliking her answer. "I thought a fever was a sign of infection. Maybe his leg…"

She shook her head again. "I already checked, and he's clear. My guess is his body's treating the influence of the entity like an infection. Since it's only in his mind, though, there aren't any physical symptoms beyond the fever." She glanced down compassionately at Sheppard's shaking form. "He's gonna have to fight this himself."

Ronon glared at her, the wheels in his brain turning as he digested what she'd said. Then, with a roar of anger and pain, he spun around and kicked a tray of supplies, sending it clear across to the end of the room, which was thankfully empty.

"Ronon!" Teyla shouted from the doorway, and ran over to him. She had been on her way to relieve him of his watch, and had been just in time to catch his outburst. Laying her hand on his arm, she stared up into his eyes, warning him to calm down.

Realizing what he'd done, Ronon shuffled back around to face Jennifer, and muttered, "Sorry."

"That's okay," Jennifer replied, hoping the smile she'd plastered on distracted them from her shaking hands.

"I'm gonna go work out," he said then, and before Teyla could stop him, he stalked out of the infirmary.

"He's intense, huh?" Jennifer asked Teyla, and she nodded slowly.

"He must be very worried," Teyla mused aloud. "What is happening?"

Dr. Keller glanced down at Sheppard, and didn't know whether to be glad that he'd stopped shaking or not. "His temperature had dropped somewhat last night, but it's climbing again. As I told Ronon," she said before Teyla could ask, "there's nothing I can do for him in the way of medication. All we can do is keep him comfortable."

As the weight of Keller's statement sunk in, Teyla nodded. "I understand. Would you like me to assist you?"

Just then did Jennifer realize that except for Ronon, she had been alone in the infirmary. She'd sent Marie to get some sleep a number of hours ago, and because Sheppard was her only patient, she hadn't felt the need to call anyone else.

"That would be great, thank you."

Teyla helped her wet a few large towels in the sink, then wring them out and place them in a bin. She carried the bin over to Sheppard's bed as Jennifer checked his temperature one last time, and they both gently began laying them over him, carefully smoothing them down onto his flushed skin.

She watched as Sheppard twitched once, but she figured it had more to do with the temperature change than anything else, and forced herself to relax. When he seemed a little more comfortable, she allowed herself to sit beside the bed, and took his hand in hers, her thumb rubbing small circles on his palm.

"John," she finally said, though her voice was little more than a murmur, "Please, keep fighting."

Then, she brought his hand up to her lips, and brushed them against his fingers. "I am here for you."

TBC.....

* * *

_Notes: Hey, sorry for more ShepWhumping...actually I'm not, LOL! Sorry, Sheppard. Anyway, hopefully within the next few chapters, I'll be able to wrap everything up, and I'll finally leave poor Shep alone. I never know how this stuff is gonna turn out until I write. I mean, I have a general idea, but sometimes the story just....changes itself as I write it. Hopefully that makes sense. Oh, and sorry about the separations between Sheppard's mental convo with "Ben" and Ronon watching him in real life. Because is a bunch of meanies, I can't use my normal double-spaces. Bleh. _

_Anyway, thanks for all the great reviews, and I...*hears banging noises* Oh, shoot, Sheppard escaped my basement! Um, I hope you enjoy the story so far, and the rest to come! _


	11. Static

HALF-LIVES

CHAPTER 11

* * *

"I think I might've found it!"

Sam Carter looked up from her computer to see Rodney McKay standing in her doorway, a childlike, excited grin on his face, and she couldn't help but smile back.

"You're sure?" She asked, pushing her chair back from her desk.

Rodney looked slightly confused. "Not completely. I mean, I did say I 'think', didn't I? Out loud, I mean?"

"Yes, Rodney. You did."

"Oh. Okay, then. Anyway, I happened to be sitting in my lab, thinking about the time Colonel Sheppard touched that crystal on M3X-387, how we used the defibrillator to weaken the alien inside Sheppard enough to be able to get it back into the crystal." He knew he was rambling, but he was too far gone to stop now. "I know there's no crystal this time, and we already dumped the storage device, but maybe we could use the same basic idea on this energy being."

Carter stared at Rodney, her eyebrow raised, for what seemed to him like eternity. When she spoke, she did so slowly, enunciating every word. "You want to shock Colonel Sheppard."

"Well, yes. But just with enough…juice…to either incapacitate the being, or kill it entirely."

She was glaring at him again, and he wrung his hands nervously. "I'm not exactly sure how many joules it would take to kill it, or if it would even work at all, but it's the best chance we have," he finished emphatically. As much as Sheppard could irritate Rodney, he actually loved the Colonel like a brother – something he would never openly admit – and, just as importantly, he was desperate to even the score when it came to saving each others' lives.

"Rodney," Carter began, her hand rubbing a small knot of tension in the side of her neck, "you _do_ realize that in doing this, you could kill Sheppard."

Rodney nodded slowly, a small frown wrinkling his forehead. "I know, Sam. But, if we don't do anything, and the being takes over him, the only way to stop him would _be_ to kill him."

"So we're screwed either way."

"Well, that's one way of putting it, I suppose," he muttered, disturbed by her bluntness. He really shouldn't have been; he could often be just as blunt, just as tactless, but when it came from her, it just sounded weird.

"And if it works, and we can incapacitate the being, then what?" Carter asked.

"I'm still trying to work that out." He winced as she stared icy daggers at him. "Look, I've been trying to go one problem at a time, here. Right now, my problem is at least weakening this thing. Beyond that…" Rodney shrugged.

Carter felt the knot in her neck turning harder, like a pebble lodged beneath her skin. Being the leader of the Atlantis expedition was hard enough, with enemies like the Wraith constantly at your doorstep. But, she mused, at least they were tangible, solid enemies. These alien beings, wherever they were from, were fairly invisible, and that somehow made them seem more dangerous. And now, at least one of them was bent on controlling her military leader, or killing him altogether, and the only way they could save him was to possibly kill him. Again.

Out loud, Carter sighed. "All right, Rodney. Get what you need, and meet me in the infirmary. I'll fill in Doctor Keller while we wait."

Rodney nodded enthusiastically, glad that at least he wouldn't have to face the brunt of Keller's wrath after she heard their plan. "Yes, yes. Thank you, Sam."

She watched him leave without uttering a response, then stared up at the ceiling and muttered, "Thank me when it's over."

* * *

It was still dark, but at least the cold had subsided now. Sheppard still felt hot, as if he were in a sauna turned up all the way, but he could deal with that. The silence pressed on his ears, and he had the sudden ache to hear Ronon's rumbling voice, or Teyla's sparkling laugh. Even Rodney's inane sci-babble would've satisfied him at this point, anything but silence. He missed the constant lapping of the ocean waves, the smell of the salty air that permeated the entire city, but here, there was nothing. It was as if he were in a prison cell the same size as his body, unable to move and hardly able to breathe.

Finally, just to break the silence around him, he called, "Ben?"

Nothing but his own voice echoed back to him. He growled in frustration, and tried again. "Ben, where the hell'd you run off to?"

At last, Sheppard heard a mere whisper, and he almost cried with relief. It wasn't Ben, he realized then, but Teyla's voice that had somehow reached him.

"John," she said, though it was so quiet he had to strain to hear it, "Please, keep fighting. I am here for you."

"Teyla!" He shouted, but she didn't respond, and he felt his hope crushed once more. "Great, so she can't hear me."

The silence continued for what seemed ages, so every once in a while, he decided to talk to himself, hoping at least that hearing his own voice would keep him from going crazy. He recited lines from his favorite movies, hummed a few Johnny Cash songs, and interspersed these with calls to Ben. The being had yet to answer, however, and Sheppard was beginning to get majorly pissed.

"Ben, you sick son of a bitch, I know you're here. Say something right NOW!"

Ben's voice murmured back to him. "I thought you wanted me to leave you alone."

Sheppard laughed, and noticed with concern that it had sounded a little hysterical. "I do. Oh, how I do. But as long as you're here, you could at least tell me who these enemies of yours are."

Ben chuckled. "You are a persistent one, Sheppard."

"I told you before, I'm stubborn."

"That, you are. Very well. Our enemies are the giant beings that live in the water on this planet."

"Giant beings," Sheppard murmured, trying to understand who Ben was describing. Then, he shook his head (or the equivalent of it), and asked, "You mean the whales?"

"Yes."

"I don't get it."

Sheppard had always had some mixed feelings for the whales that lived near Atlantis. They were massive, as big as cruise ships, and weren't actually whales, but giant fish. _Giant, friendly fish_, he thought with a smile. Though, anything that big could still be potentially dangerous, and that was why he was wary of them, despite their helpful nature.

Sheppard heard an impatient sigh before Ben explained, "Their emissions – what you would call 'sonar' – can kill us. Those of us you have imprisoned in the device are likely already dead, as the…whales…would have already tracked them down."

Now Sheppard understood. "So you want to use Atlantis' weapons to kill the whales."

"Correct."

"I can't let you do that, you know."

Ben chuckled. "You do not have much of a choice, in your current state."

Sheppard felt rage boiling inside him again, but he forced his voice to stay level. "I will die before I let you control me."

"No, you will not."

Sheppard was startled. "What?"

"You have no desire to die. There is someone who needs you. Someone you love."

Sheppard growled, knowing Ben had somehow read his mind, maybe after their last struggle.

"If it's what it takes to protect _them_," he said, emphasizing the last word, "then I will."

"Hmm," Ben replied, then fell silent. Despite his anger, Sheppard almost dreaded the quiet.

A few moments later, Ben muttered, "Stop me, if you can, then."

The intense pressure of Ben's energy surrounded Sheppard again, and he steeled himself and pushed back. Ben surged forward even harder, and Sheppard felt himself slip a little. Then, the faces of his team – his life – drifted before him, and he used more of his draining strength to resist. He was rewarded by the feeling of Ben retreating slightly, but he refused to pull back, to regroup. He knew that if he did, Ben could again gain the higher ground. Sure enough, Ben pushed on him again, making the darkness even blacker than he'd thought possible. Sheppard gave a quick, determined snarl and lashed out against Ben with all his strength, already feeling it sapping from him, as if his very soul was bleeding out. _Come on, Rodney_, he begged silently. _I don't know how long I can hold out_.

* * *

"Are you ready yet, Rodney?" Keller asked as she watched him tapping away on his tablet. She hadn't liked this plan from the beginning, but as Carter – and later, Rodney – had explained, it was their best bet to getting the Colonel back.

She had just finished placing electrodes from the EEG on Sheppard's forehead, though she'd had a little trouble thanks to his profuse sweating, and was now checking the printout from the heart monitor. Except for the tremors that had begun to shake the Colonel's body once more, his vitals seemed as normal as could be expected, so she just stood beside the bed, her hands on her hips as she watched the man who was one of Sheppard's best friends, if not _the_ best.

"Almost there," Rodney mumbled, then tapped a final time and looked up at her. "Okay. It's go time."

Carter appeared at the foot of the bed then, and was soon joined by Ronon and Teyla, whose stoic expressions effectively hid their roiling emotions. Beyond them, Major Lorne and one of his team members stood just inside the door, guarding it in case the plan went south. Lorne's face was a tangle of emotions; pain, fear and resolve all managed to somehow flick across his eyes, and it only served to unnerve Rodney even more.

He deliberately turned away from Lorne's gaze, and looked to Carter, who solemnly nodded once, giving him the go-ahead.

"Okay. Keller, ready the paddles," he breathed, mentally crossing his fingers that this would work.

Jennifer carefully placed the defibrillator paddles against Sheppard's damp abdomen, her gaze flicking toward the digital numbers on the machine, and shouted, "Clear!"

Rodney unconsciously took a step back, though he was already fairly far from the bed, as the defibrillator sent a shock through Sheppard's body. His back arched off the bed, and Rodney thought he saw the hint of crinkling around his friend's eyes, but this was no time to second-guess things. There was no going back now.

Jennifer removed the paddles, holding them out in front of her as she gazed expectantly at Sheppard, praying simply that his eyes would flutter, but nothing happened, and her shoulders fell in defeat.

"Up the, uh, power," Rodney said quietly, and she nodded and reached over to press a button on the machine.

"Ready," she said. Rodney nodded at her, and she repeated her earlier motions, shocking Sheppard with the paddles and waiting for a response.

She shook her head at the others.

"More power," Rodney nearly whispered.

This had to work.

* * *

Sheppard was losing ground, he could feel it. True to his nature, however, he refused to give up. Ben laughed at him, his chuckle buzzing through Sheppard's head like a ton of bees.

"Why don't you just give up?" Ben asked him. "It won't be _that_ bad."

"I told you," Sheppard gasped, "I'm stubborn."

And that was when he felt it – a tingling in the base of his mind. It seemed to ease the pressure around him, allowing him to catch his breath, which he took in great gulps.

"The hell?" he asked aloud, though more to himself than Ben.

It happened again, and the tingling turned to a numbing sensation. Finally, he understood.

"Rodney," he breathed.

The pressure grew once more, but it seemed less than before, and he was still able to breathe comfortably.

Ben's low growl soon reached his hearing, and finally the extreme pressure returned, again blackening his vision.

"Your friends are interfering," the being said, and Sheppard rejoiced at the fear in its voice.

"You bet your ass they are. We never give up on a team member," he replied, now having gained enough of his strength back to be able to fight the being. He immediately shoved against Ben's thick weight, and was almost giddy when another numbing sensation jolted through him. Though Ben tried again to push into Sheppard's mind, his hold slipped as another shock immediately rippled through, this time strong enough to actually send pain through Sheppard himself. Ben let out a strangled scream, and then the pressure retreated quickly, as if it were being sucked into a vacuum.

Sheppard, completely drained of energy, curled in on himself, this time glad for the darkness that enveloped him.

* * *

"It's not working, Rodney. All we're gonna do is kill him." Jennifer said, turning away and tossing the paddles back onto the machine in frustration.

"No. No, no, wait. Just one more time. I think…"

"Doctors!" Teyla interjected, her eyes looking past them toward Sheppard's prone form.

Jennifer looked down in response, and was shocked to see Sheppard's eyelids fluttering slightly. He was also breathing again, his chest rising of its own accord, and the flushed tint of his skin had begun to fade.

"Oh, my God," Keller and McKay both breathed at the same time.

"It worked?" Ronon asked, stepping forward to gaze at Sheppard with his own eyes.

"It worked," Rodney mimicked, inwardly hopping up and down. He'd never felt this excited, this relieved, in his life.

"The alien being?" Carter asked him, her eyes serious.

Rodney's grin refused to leave his face. "Dead."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. Completely."

"And the others?" She asked. Rodney seemed to finally remember them then, and looked down at his tablet.

"Um…retreating. Seems the one attacking Sheppard was the leader. Once it was gone, the others must've figured they'd been beaten."

Sheppard made a noise in his throat then, causing everyone to turn toward him. With his eyes still shut tight, he reached up to try and figure out why he was having trouble breathing properly.

"Hang on, Colonel, and we'll get that tube out," Jennifer said, stilling him with a hand on his arm. He opened his eyes then, and she was never so glad to see the color green as she did at that moment.

"Are you sure you should do that already?" Teyla asked, and Keller nodded.

"He'll be fine. He's breathing on his own now, so he doesn't need it. In fact, it's probably hurting more than helping right now." She glanced around at the group of people circling the bed. "But I need to close the curtain for a minute as I remove it." She leaned forward, as if to impart a secret. "Sometimes, the patient throws up. Gag reflex."

"Oh, gross!" Rodney muttered, stepping well away from the bed. The others followed, and with a wide smile, Jennifer slid the curtain closed.

Sheppard's friends all stood just outside the curtain, waiting. A shared realization seemed to hit them all at the same time, bringing a collective sigh of relief through the infirmary.

Sheppard was alive.

TBC...

* * *

_Notes: Hey, so I know it's kinda a short chapter, but what're ya gonna do, right? LOL anyway, I promise that's the end of the Shep-Whumping. Next chapter will be pretty much an epilogue, of how things work out between Shep and Teyla, with some "awww" Shep & Torren moments thrown in for good measure. *Sighs* Nothing better than seeing a handsome guy geeking out over a baby..._

_Anyway, hope you enjoyed the rollercoaster ride of emotions - let me know how you liked it. And to all of you awesome reviewers, THANK YOU!!!_

_PS - I know that my medical/scientific junk may be off, but it's a darn story, so I'm not too worried about it. _


	12. Epilogue: Realization

_Note: I know this is a short chapter, but it's just a kind of wrap-up for the story. I was gonna draw it out, add more stuff, but it just kind of worked out this way. If I get the itch, I may write an alternate ending...though it won't be different, per se, but just longer. Anyway...Hope you likes...._

* * *

HALF-LIVES

CHAPTER 12 - EPILOGUE

* * *

The door chime sounded, and Sheppard sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and feeling as if he hadn't slept in weeks. At least, he mused, he was alive, and that thought brought a peace to him that he'd taken for granted many times before, but not now.

"It's open," he rasped, his throat still sore from the intubation he'd received a few days ago. The door slid aside, silhouetting Teyla against the bright light in the corridor. In her arms, she carried Torren, who was making soft, contented noises from within his warm blanket. She took a moment to look down at her son, and smiled at his apparent happiness.

"Hey," Sheppard said, waving for them to enter. He tossed an extra pillow behind his head and wriggled back against them, so that he was now mostly sitting up. Under the comforter, another pillow supported his leg, which hardly hurt at all, but Keller had ordered him to baby it anyway. For once, he'd decided to listen to her.

Teyla drifted into the room, taking in the sight of him sitting there, shirtless and with a goofy smile on his face, and decided she couldn't be happier. Keller had said that he was healing nicely from all his wounds, that with any luck, he'd be back on light duty in a week or so. She guessed that he would be ecstatic when he finally got the o.k. for that. She might not know everything about the man sitting before her, but he made no secret about his love for adventure and action.

_And flying, of course_, she told herself with a smile. He'd already promised to teach Torren to fly a Jumper as soon as he was old enough.

"I was supposed to bring Torren to visit you in the infirmary after your leg injury, but I never got the chance. I decided to see if you were up to having some time with him now."

Sheppard's grin widened even more. If he wasn't careful, Teyla thought, his face might actually crack. "Sure," he said, then took a quick gulp of water from a bottle he'd had tucked beside him. "Bring him on over here."

Teyla stepped over to the bed, and carefully passed the baby to him. Sheppard automatically settled the small bundle into the crook of his arm, and was rewarded by a small coo of satisfaction from Torren. He looked up at Teyla with a proud glint in his eye, and her own eyes filled with tears. If she hadn't known better, she could've believed that Torren was Sheppard's own son. They looked so incredibly natural with each other.

"I believe he is very comfortable with you, John," she whispered, and he nodded, his bottom lip stuck out as he worked up the courage to say something to her that had been weighing on his mind since he'd woken up in the infirmary, from the moment he'd had the tube removed from his throat.

After watching Torren stare around in awe as only a baby could, Sheppard had finally found the nerve to speak the words he wanted to say, and gazed directly into Teyla's eyes, making sure she listened to every word he said.

"I almost didn't think I'd see either of you again."

"I also felt that way about you," she breathed, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. She'd come to learn lately, that Sheppard was the only man who could make her feel both weak and safe at the same time. While it was a strange feeling, it didn't frighten her. In fact, it only deepened her affection for him. "I am glad you are all right."

"Me, too," he replied, lifting his eyebrows at her comically.

They sat in amicable silence for a while, simultaneously watching Torren as he waved his fists, and listening to the crash of the waves on the ocean below. Sheppard drew in a breath, glad beyond words to hear that sound, to smell the surf as it splashed against the city, even as it mingled with the scent of Teyla's perfume, teasing his nostrils with their salty-sweetness.

"He's such a tiny little thing," Sheppard said then, and Teyla wrinkled her brow at him. "TJ, I mean."

"Oh," she replied, understanding. "Yes. But he will grow all too soon."

"Ahh, don't worry about it. We've got a while, yet."

Teyla sat up straighter, startled. "We?"

"Of course." Then, he frowned. "I just thought…with Kanaan…well, a boy needs a dad."

Still, she stared at him, and it was just beginning to make him nervous. _Isn't that what she'd wanted all along?_ he asked himself. Ronon had seemed so sure of it when they'd talked.

Just when he was about to backpedal, if only to end the awkward silence between them, Teyla pressed herself against his chest, and he had to wrap his free arm quickly around her to balance himself before he tumbled backward.

"I love you, John," she said into his chest, and her words brought a warmth to him, one that started somewhere near his heart and quickly spread throughout his whole body.

Burying his face into her hair, he murmured, "I love you, too."

Right then, he realized what he'd been missing all these years, and yet, had the entire time. The sudden knowledge of it sent a tear rolling down his cheek, where it dampened a lock of Teyla's golden-brown hair.

He had a family.

THE END


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